Logic of the Soul
by Poetique-Justyce
Summary: The science of measurable concepts and principles is where logic reigns as king. Logic thrives where the soul has no proof. But what of the intangible imaginations? The inconceivable mysteries of hope, faith, and love? The heart of the soul will flourish where logic cannot find reason.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, so I've worked up the nerve to write another fanfiction. This is my first attempt at a multi-chapter fiction, so let's see how this goes! Reviews are welcome. Constructive criticism is also welcome, but please no flames. :)

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the TMNT characters used in this story.

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><p><strong>Logic of the Soul: Chapter 1<strong>

The evening twilight kissed the horizon farewell as the night's velvet wings draped the sky in darkness. The city below was a constant buzz of movement: fun-loving friends painting the town red, hard-working citizens traveling to night shift jobs, and the shady activities of the more 'black-browed' individuals of the city.

Somewhere between the blackness of the night sky and the city lights below, three figures watched from the gray midtones of the rooftops. They were trained to be invisible amongst the darkness lacing the city, yet they lingered in the gray shadows. The veil of gray hid their mutated bodies from prying eyes yet allowed them to observe a world they would never truly be a part of. They lingered in this gray—this inbetween— saving the city countless times from unforeseen danger. They lingered just enough for witnesses to watch their ambiguous silhouettes melt into darkness; just enough for those fortunate few to know there were still heroes in this cold, cruel world. One of the terrapin figures leaned dangerously over the edge of the rooftop, his eyes narrowed at a scene unfolding below on the city streets.

Two women laughed, chatting excitedly as they waited in line for entry into an overcrowded night club. They were caught completely off guard as a teen rushed passed them grabbing one of their purses. Both women cursed the boy, pointed, and screamed for help, but the boy had already disappeared into the surrounding crowd of people.

The figure on the roof's ledge gripped his sai ready to leap into action.

"Wait, Raphael."

The figure growled at the sound of his name, "What the heck are we waiting for, Leo?" He demanded, glaring at his older brother, "Last time I checked, thievery was as good a reason as any to kick some shell."

"We're here to look for more canisters, not petty thieves. We can't afford to get into a tussle carrying these around," Leo said giving the sack over his shoulder a small pat. "And see? That officer has already caught him, justice is served and we didn't even need to get involved."

Raphael sighed in annoyance following his brother's haughty hand gesture to the police officer dragging the kid by his shirt collar toward the two ladies; he assumed the boy would be forced to apologize before forking over the purse. A good old fashion butt-kicking what have been more satisfying in his opinion. He was really hoping to get some action in tonight, but instead they spent all of 3 hours combing the city for mutagen canisters.

"Killjoy," Raph mumbled under his breath before stepping back from the ledge and walking past Leo, "So, we got, what, five cans of ooze? That should be enough for brainiac to work with, right?" He asked, impatiently nodding his head toward the sack on Leo's shoulder. If he wasn't going to get any action out here then at least he could pound on his dummy post back at the lair.

"Yeah, this should be good. Let's head back."

_Bout time…_Raph thought as he continued toward the other side of the roof.

"Hey, wait, where's Mikey?"

Raph's body tensed and then slumped with exasperation. His youngest brother had the attention span of gnat and was just as much of a nuisance as one. "Sorry, Leo, my goofball detection is a little off tonight..." he replied with mock innocence, before raising his voice in irritation, "How am I supposed to know? He was standing beside you just a minute ago!"

Leo gave Raph a sour expression and was probably going to retort with a domineering remark, until they both heard a familiar sound of glee.

"Yo, bros, check it out!"

Both Leo and Raph turned in unison at the sound of their youngest brother's voice. They stared wide-eyed at the sight before them.

"While you guys were being all broody staring off into the abyss, I got all these. Pretty cool, huh?"

Raph smirked; Leo, on the other hand, looked rather nonchalant….until he realized what Mikey had in his hands. Then he looked like he was having an ulcer.

"Wh-where did you get those, Mikey?" Leo said a hint of panic in his voice.

"Dude, it's no biggie. That guy's giving them away for free, see?" Mikey pointed at the night club just across the street from the one Leo and Raph were watching. "Some of them floated up here, so I snagged them. You missed all my snazzy ninja moves I used to catch them," Mikey concluded with a faux face of disappointment, "Leo, you would've been proud."

Though his expression remained stoic, humor danced across Raph's eyes as he looked from the night club, to Mikey, and then Leo. Maybe tonight wouldn't be a total bore after all.

Leo did a double take looking over the ledge at the night club, and then back to Mikey, "You are _not_ taking those to the lair!"

"But, whhhhhhhy?" Mikey whined, stomping his foot.

"There's no way we can make it back to the lair unseen with….with all of these!" Leo waved his hands in the general direction of Mikey's new possessions. "And don't you have enough junk in your room as it is?"

"You're sounding a little jealous there, big bro," Mikey said gallingly, "But I don't mind sharing, here!"

Leo's eyes widened as Mikey extended his hand, "Get those away from me!" Leo backpedaled waving the things away. Raph snickered from the sideline watching the free entertainment before him. "Why would you grab so many! You have like twenty of them!"

"They were just so big and colorful, I couldn't just grab one!"

"Here that, Fearless, he likes 'em big, do you like 'em big?" Raph could barely hide his amusement as Leo squirmed with embarrassment and a deep blush crossed his cheeks.

"Please, Leo?"

Leo cleared his throat, quickly finding his composure, "No! Master Splinter will kill me for letting you bring those things home!"

Puzzled, Mikey looked up at his possessions and then back at Leo. "Why would Master Splinter flip out over balloons?"

Leo and Raph stared at Mikey. Raph looked at Leo's shocked expression and then back at Mikey.

_Surely the goofball knows that… _Raph's train of thought stopped abruptly as he saw the genuine look of confusion on Mikey's face. _He really doesn't know. _Raph's smirk grew into a full blown grin.

"Balloons? You seriously think they're balloons?" Raph questioned, pointing at the floating items attached to strings in Mikey's hand. Master Splinter discussed_that _particular topic with them a few years ago; their Sensei had not shown them what they looked like, but to be this clueless? Really? How could he_not _know_?_

Mikey looked questioningly at him, "Of course they're balloons, Raph, I'm not stupid you know."

"You sure about that?...You know, the part about _not _being stupid."

"Raph…" Leo gave him a warning glance. Raph responded by raising his eye ridges in a mockingly innocent way. "Mikey, those aren't—"

"Of course they are, Leo. If Mike says they're balloons, then heck, they're balloons." Raph said as he purposely interrupted Leo, trying his hardest to hold back his snickering.

"Anyway," Mikey started slowly giving Raph an awkward look before turning back to Leo, "Can I at least bring one back for Donnie?"

"Why on earth would you want to give one to Donnie?" Leo asked dubiously.

Mikey looked up shifting through his floating treasures until he pulled a yellow one from the bunch. "Well, I feel kinda bad that D's stuck in the lab while we're up here cruisin' the city."

"We were looking for mutagen canisters, not 'cruising' the city." Leo corrected.

"_Anyway, _he's been super stressed lately and I thought a balloon might cheer him up! Plus this one looks like a light bulb," he jiggled the yellow one in the air for emphasis, "it looks smart, he'll like it!" Leo read the marker print on the so-called balloon and his face withered.

"That's not the only thing it looks like."

Leo glared at Raph for the crude comment. "Mikey, I really don't think…" Mikey's enthusiasm visibly deflated at the start of Leo's dissent.

"C'mon, Leo. He just wants to make Donnie-boy happy," Raph said, heavily dropping his arm on Leo's shoulder as he leaned against him, "I think it'll make him happy, too, especially if he can share it with April."

"You're not helping," Leo muttered between clenched teeth as he forcefully pushed Raph's bulky arm off his shoulder.

"Not trying to." Raph said with a devious smile. He knew Leo had two options: Let Mikey bring home his beloved 'balloon,' or tell Mikey it wasn't a balloon. Judging from his annoyed and embarrassed expression, the fearless leader didn't look prepared to have _that_ particular conversation with their youngest brother, so Raph was banking on the former.

Leo sighed. Ah, there it was, the inevitable break.

"Fine, whatever," Leo finally conceded throwing his arms up in the air in a frustrated surrender.

"Sweet!" Mikey exclaimed releasing the other cluster of 'balloons' into the starry sky and holding the yellow one in a death grip.

"If Sensei sees it, I'm telling him it's your fault." Leo said under his breath pointing at Raph as they waited for Mikey to tie the 'balloon' string around his belt.

"Loosen up, Fearless, before that stick in your shell breaks."

Ignoring the smart remark, Leo leaped to the next rooftop.

"C'mon, Balloon-boy!" Raph called over his shoulder before he tucked his body for a front flip and ran to catch up with Leo. He couldn't wait for this joke to unfold. It's not everyday he got an one-up on Mikey and he planned to take full advantage of it.

**TBC**

**A/N: Thank you for taking the time to read the first chapter of this story, there will be more chapters to come! Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Just want to thank everyone who took the time to read, review, and/or follow this story. It means a lot!**

**Chapter 2**

Like the meticulous brush strokes of an artist detailing a canvas with meaningful marks, his hands moved with purpose and precision. They maneuvered effortlessly between test tubes and Bunsen burners, and glided with expert speed across his computer's keyboard. This was his world; his domain. It wasn't often Master Splinter excused him from missions with his brothers and allowed him to work in his lab. Granted, this was not a leisure lab time, but rather the tedious process of recreating retromutagen. Thankfully, the first batch was able to cure Mr. O'Neil. It had taken months to accurately produce it. There were dozens if not more mutated citizens still in need of this cure.

The process of breaking down the mutagen into its basic elements and extracting the appropriate amount of its essence was a painfully slow process. Unfortunately, only a small percentage of the needed element is found in the actual mutagen. Therefore large quantities of the alien ooze are needed to ensure enough of its vital element is removed to make a potent antidote.

Donnie glided from the lab table to his computer with his swivel chair. His tired eyes strained to see his typed notes. In all honesty, he should have gone to bed hours ago. He still felt lethargic and sleep-deprived from his bout with the flu last month, and the extra time he was putting in the lab wasn't helping him recover any faster.

He hated asking for help, and thankfully didn't have to. Leo was quick to see the signs of his fatigue and gathered his other two brothers to pitch in and help where they could. Right now, the three of them were scouting the city for more mutagen canisters while he continued his lab work. He had to admit, tackling this job as a team was a better idea then drowning under the weight of it by himself.

It only made sense for his brothers to look for the mutagen, while he worked in his lab.

_They're better suited for search missions anyway, especially if they run into any Purple Dragons or Footbots. _Donnie thought briefly, too preoccupied to dwell on his self-doubt.

Donnie's posture straightened at hearing the sudden commotion in the den. His brothers were back and from the light sounds of laughter and banter, he assumed their search was successful.

"Hey, Brainiac, how's it coming?" Raph said, his arms crossed over his plastron as he leaned against the door frame.

"As well as can be expected, I suppose," Donnie said over his shoulder. His eyes still glued to the computer screen as his fingers rhythmically tapped the keyboard and continued, "I was able to start a chemical decomposition with the small amount of mutagen I had left. It's been pretty frustrating starting the formula from scratch since my notes were destroyed when my motherboard crashed; Regardless, I've managed to make incremental progress. Oh, and I've also—"

"Okay, shut up already, sorry I asked," Raph mumbled bluntly to discontinue any further explanation from his brother. Donnie turned around giving him an unpleasant look.

"We managed to find five canisters," Leo said stepping into the lab and setting the sack on the table where Donnie was working, "How much retromutagen do you think you'll be able to make with this?"

"Well, it really depends. I discovered a fascinating property within the –"

"Hey Donnie!"

The purple-banded mutant winced slightly at the earsplitting sound of his youngest brother. His footfalls slapped loudly across the concrete floor before he skid to a halt in front of the lab door.

"Look what I brought back for you!" Mikey said sporting his trademark 50 watt smile as he held out his gift to Donnie.

Donnie cautiously took the string from Mikey's hand. His eyes followed the string up to the yellow floating….thing it was attached to. _A balloon?..._ Donnie thought with an arch of his brow as he pulled it down to his eye level. _This is the oddest shaped balloon I've ever seen. _Donnie rubbed his finger along the small elevated edges. _Strange, it has ridges and a bulbous…_ Donnie's eyes widened with realization. Reading the balloon's inscription only confirmed his suspicion.

"Don't mind Leo. He's just being a sourpuss 'cause he didn't get a balloon."

Donnie blinked incredulously at his brothers. Leo was shaking his head in his hand, his body slumped with annoyance; Raph's eyes were twinkling with a devilish glint while his lips wavered trying unsuccessfully to hold back a snort of laughter; and Mikey was smiling like an oblivious idiot. Donnie sighed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to see an embarrassing joke coming into play at the expense of his little brother.

Based on Leo's sudden uptight body language this definitely wasn't his idea. He actually looked rather annoyed, which was no surprise considering he was stuck topside with a naively persuasive Mikey and a crafty Raphael. _I can't believe he let Mikey bring this back to the lair. _Donnie thought to himself, but then reconsidered the momentary shock. Leo was, after all, outnumbered being the most rational one out of the three. Without Donnie there to balance out their two impulsive and rambunctious brothers, Leo more than likely gave in to Mikey's pleading and Raph's egging.

Speaking of the latter, he was still leaned cross-armed against the door frame, no longer trying to hide the grin plastered on his face. He and Donnie's eyes met briefly. Raph's face was consorted with wicked anticipation as he anxiously gripped his biceps. He stared at Donnie and Mikey like he was waiting for the proverbial pie in the face, except this time he would not be the unwilling victim. He was more than likely attempting to inflict revenge on Mikey for one of his ill-fated pranks.

And then there was Mikey, who was genuinely naïve to his current predicament and really was just being kind in bringing his big brother what he perceived to be a balloon.

Donnie analyzed his brothers' behaviors and in a matter of moments rationalized the outcome of the situation would highly depend on his reaction. There was no way he could completely avoid embarrassing Michelangelo, but he could at least lessen the blow.

"Um, this...this was really thoughtful, Mikey." Donnie said carefully offering a light smile as he tied the string to the leg of his lab table.

"Did ya see what it says, Don?" Raph quipped in, "Be Smart, Be Safe."

"Thought it was perfect for you. You're always telling us about tool safety and stuff." Mikey said proud of his attentiveness.

"Yeah Donnie, what's that you're always tell Mikey?...Stop playing with your _tools_?" Raph added while chuckling. Donatello wanted to smack that pervert grin off his face.

"Hey! Donnie said I could use his tools as long as he was there to watch!" Mikey said indignantly.

Leo tried to keep a stoical stance during Raph's jabbing, but couldn't help but smirk at the direction the conversation was going.

Raph's eyes widened with unadulterated glee, "So, he lets you mess with his hammer and screw stuff, huh?"

"Yeah…sometimes?" Mikey answered skeptically, looking strangely at Raph.

"Bet April'd like to use his _hammer_, too. She would probably makes so much noise she couldn't even hear him _coming_ in the lab." The overtone in Raph's voice was wretchedly obvious to everyone except Michelangelo.

"Why would April care about his hammer?" Mikey paused lost in his own thought, "'Sides, the blowtorch is way cooler….yeah April would have tons of fun the blowtorch!"

Raph burst into hysterical guffaws. "_Blow_torch, he said _blow_torch….Oh, God, Mike, stop you're killing me!" Raph slapped his knee finding it harder and harder to stop laughing.

At that comment a crimson tone rushed to Donnie's cheeks as he glared daggers at Raph. He'd gone too far. Make sexual innuendos about him all day long, but April was off limits. To make such a filthy comment about his April was unacceptable.

Leo's smirk dropped instantly, replaced with a pang of guilt for allowing the conversation to take place to begin with, "That's enough, Raph," The perverted remark was enough for Leo to switch roles from brother to leader.

"Ha, ha, yeah…funny?..." Mikey laughed nervously, looking to Donnie for answers to questions he didn't know how to ask.

Donnie's initial anger waned as he looked at his younger brother. He sighed. Mikey had no clue he was being lead by Raph to look like a buffoon. "Mike," Donnie started calmly, "That's not a balloon," Mikey was about to object but Donnie shook his head and continued, "It's a condom."

The room fell silent aside from Raph's side-splitting laughter.

"A condom?"

"Yes."

"Dude that makes no sense," Mikey rubbed the back of his head in confusion, "that's like ketchup and mustard and stuff…." His words were less animated and more uncertain, trailing off as he looked to the floor. Raph practically convulsed from the hilarity. Leo punched him in the arm to silence him to no avail.

Donnie looked at his brother in disbelief. How did he _not_ know what a condom was? Granted, they didn't exactly have experience in its use, but for the love of biology….

"Not condiments, condoms." Donnie corrected him with an even tone, trying to remove any condescension from his voice. Mikey stared at him with those wide curious eyes—he still didn't get it. Donnie inhale giving a quick response in a single breath, "It's a device commonly used by males and females during intercourse to reduce the probability of conception."

"Huh?"

"Maybe you should ask _Leo_." Donnie cut his eyes toward Leonardo who visibly shrunk at the suggestion. _You should have nipped this in the bud earlier big brother, _Donnie thought without an ounce of sympathy.

Leo shoved Raph out of the lab as the red-banded turtle continued to howl with laughter.

"Leo, what's a—"

"Not tonight," Leo quickly cut off any questions Mikey was about to ask, "we're starting practice an hour early so I suggest you go to bed." Still wearing his leadership mask, Leo ushered a complaining Mikey out of the lab as well before turning to Donatello, "Sorry, I had no idea it was going to go that far." Leo said sympathetically.

"You do realize this is Raph we're talking about? How could you assume it _wouldn't_ go that far?" Donnie roughly took a canister out of the sack clanking it loudly on the lab table. His previous anger began to resurface. He knew Leo did not deserve his cutting tone, but decided he'd save his more passive aggressive tendencies for Raph tomorrow.

"You're right and I'm sorry." Leo apologized again as he walked over to help Donnie remove the remaining canisters from the sack. "I don't think he realizes how tactless he can be at times."

"Or he just doesn't care." Donnie concluded tersely, now rearranging the canisters on table so they neatly lined up with the edge of the table. Donnie looked up at Leo, who seemed sincerely shamefaced about the whole thing. He knew his oldest brother walked a thin line between joking with them as a brother and being mature and responsible as a leader and sometimes it was hard to equally balance the two roles. He gave a half-hearted smile, "Its fine….I suppose explaining the use of condoms to Mikey will make a suitable atonement."

Leo returned the smile with small chuckle as he shook his head with a groan, "Oh, boy."

Donnie plopped back into his chair with a small hum. He could feel Leo's eyes looking him over.  
>Then he glanced at the untouched slice of pizza beside his computer.<p>

"You need to eat something, Don, to build up your strength."

_Because it's obvious you're still weak. _Donnie's inner voice chimed in, reading more into Leo's words than he should have. "I'm not really hungry," he answered absently turning to his computer once again and resumed typing. Maybe it was an aftereffect from the flu, but lately his appetite had been non-existent. Donnie felt Leo's hand press against the side of head and promptly swatted it away, "my temperature is a healthy 86.6 degrees, Leo, I'm fine."

"I'll make you some soup." Leo said disregarding his claim and taking the plate of cold pizza with him as he left the lab. Donnie groaned. He hated being fussed over especially when there was no need for it. He felt okay, a little tired but okay. He shook his head with a small smile. When it came to Leo, he supposed the mothering couldn't be helped.

Donnie glanced at the framed photo beside his computer like he did every night and gave a longing sigh. He wondered what April was doing right now. _Probably cramming for the chemistry test she has Friday. _Being friends with him and his brothers hadn't exactly made it easy for the red-head to keep up with her studies. Between saving her dad from aliens and training to become a Kunoichi, it's miraculous she still manage to make the honor roll. _She really is amazing…_Donnie thought with a smile. His thoughts were immediately interrupted as they trailed back to his brother's revolting words and he immediately frowned.

**_Bet April'd like to use his hammer, too. She probably makes so much noise she can't hear him coming in the lab._**

As filthy as his brother's comment was, Donnie couldn't deny the fact he often had dreams of April and him doing…..things, in his lab. The fact that Raphael unknowingly brought those hidden desires to light both embarrassed and angered the intellectual turtle, but realizing the impossibility of those desires seemed to add the ultimate insult to injury.

He was simply April's smart turtle friend and nothing more. Every hug, every peck on the cheek that sent warm shudders throughout his body were merely forms of friendly endearment to her.

His heart ached for April to see him as more than just her 'science buddy'. At times he dared to think there was more behind her subtle glances during dojo training, or the gentle brushing of her shoulder against his while working in his lab was intentional and not just his wishful thinking. Even the smallest gestures were favorable to become the foundational building blocks of a respectable relationship. However, those building blocks were quickly demolished by the wrecking ball known as Casey Jones.

Lately, April was spending a lot of time with Casey, much to Donnie's dismay. Though Casey could never hold a torch to his intelligence, he seemed to trump Donnie in every other aspect.

Assertive, confident, charismatic, socially competent, and an uncanny ability to woo pretty redheads. April and Casey's flirty banter didn't go unnoticed by the observant turtle. Donnie huffed indignantly as he looked away from the photograph.

_I don't have time for this. I have diagnostics to run. _Donnie thought dismissively as he opened a complex software program with a few clicks on his keyboard. He found it much easier to deal with his emotions when he didn't have to _deal_ with them at all. So, he tucked the jealousy, the wishful thinking, and insecurities back into the steel box of his soul from whence they came. He mentally sealed and surrounded the steel box of his soul with science, logic, and corporeal concepts-things that made the most sense to him.

Feeling much better after his emotional 'lockdown', Donnie's fingers were a green blur flittering across the keyboard. At some point, Leonardo came back with a small bowl of soup, in which he muttered a thank you and even gave a believable performance of eating as he crammed two spoon's full of chicken soup into his mouth. However, the rest of the soup was forgotten on the corner of his desk once Leo left the lab.

After an hour and a half of eye rubbing and yawning, Donnie unknowingly gave in to sleep, the crook of his arm acting as a pillow for his head against the lab table. The fluorescent lights flickered from overuse before settling into a dim overhead. The bluish-green glow of the mutagen canisters were reminiscent of a lava lamp as globs of light lazily illuminated the room and danced over Donnie's sleeping form.

**TBC**

**Thanks for reading, please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I just want to thank everyone who has given thoughtful reviews and PMs about this story so far. Knowing that people actually find this story interesting makes me feel all kinds of awesome inside. This chapter is giving a bit of insight on Donatello. I promise there will be drama, angst, action, and suspense in later chapters. Just hold tight as I set the stage for things to come. Enjoy!**

**Chapter 3**

Donnie groaned turning his head side to side to lessen the stiffness in his neck. Scratching his arm, he smacked his lips together loosening a film of dried saliva. Utter exhaustion usually brought forth the shameless drooling. Thankfully, his lab notes were only slightly dampened. Donnie glanced at the time on his computer screen. It was 5:35am.

_Great. Just enough time to drink some coffee and start practice at this god-awful hour._ After saving his computer files, Donnie shuffled into the kitchen.

Eyes barely open, Donnie made a fumbled beeline to the coffee maker. Too early for actual words, he grunted in curious surprise to find his "Number 1 Genius" mug already filled with steamy coffee. His uncaffeinated mind could not be bothered with where the coffee came from. It only mattered that it was there and in need of drinking. Making another noncommittal noise, he shrugged his shoulders deciding not to look this vital gift horse in the mouth.

Just as he brought the brewed goodness to his lips, he noticed something white and frothy in the mug. Opening his eyes a little wider he noticed a strange design. As if painted with a miniature brush, the inside of his mug was a coffee/cream work of art. The coffee was the canvas while the fluffy cream was swirled with purpose creating a…ninja turtle?

_Mikey. _Donnie thought with a small smile. Only he would be so creative as to turn coffee into an artistic masterpiece. The image was surprisingly detailed yet cartoony; he even managed to make the little turtle a bo-welder. Donnie almost hated to drink it.

Almost. His need for caffeine was overriding his infrequent love of art. He downed half the mug in two swallows. Eyes closed and shoulders relaxed, he hummed in satisfaction.

"You finished with your coffee-gasm over there?"

Donnie nearly spluttered his coffee, startled by the sudden voice. In his coffee-seeking, zombie-like state he hadn't noticed his brother sitting at the table obnoxiously crunching on cereal with a rather amused look on his face. His initial shock was replaced with a narrow-eyed glare. He was still pretty irritated by Raph's teasing last night. Scratching his arm, he said nothing as he leaned against the counter and took another swallow of coffee.

"What're you so pissy about?" Taking another long sip, he continued to ignore Raphael, "What's the matter? Didn't get enough alone time with your hammer last night?"

Donnie's mouth twitched into a grimace, but showed no further sign of acknowledgement. Dumping the last few swallows of coffee down the drain, the mug clattered into the sink as he stalked out of the kitchen. He rolled his eyes as he heard Raph's snort of laughter behind him. Usually he was better at ignoring Raphael's taunting, and usually Raphael waited until _after_ his second cup of coffee before he commenced with offensive comments. Actually, the fact that Raphael was picking on _him_ this morning instead of Mikey was highly unusual. Not that Raph discriminated in his teasing (because he didn't), but for him to intentionally seek out Donatello for a good ribbing was rare. Obviously there was going to be a blue moon tonight.

This morning was _not _starting out well. Leonardo smiled at him as he came out of his room heading for the kitchen.

"Good Morning, Do-" He brushed past Leonardo with a deep scowl plastered on his face. The rest of Leo's greeting died on his lips as he caught a glimpse of the foul mood practically seething from the purple-banded turtle, "Ookay?" Leo gave him a concerned look.

Donnie didn't bother offering Leo an explanation. He was a smart turtle, he'd figure it out. Making a straight route for the dojo to avoid any further interactions, he suddenly stopped in his tracks when he saw the back of Mikey's head from the couch. He gave a small sigh before silently walking toward his younger brother. He really should thank him for the coffee.

Standing behind the couch he watched his brother. Quietly, Mikey sat cross-legged on the couch. He was fidgeting with his leg bands instead of watching the zany cartoon currently flashing across the TV screen. His shoulders were slumped forward, then there was that look on his face. Even though Mikey was easily the most readable of all of his brothers, Donnie still couldn't quite name the open display of emotions on his brother's face.

He supposed he could just ask him what was wrong, but from past experiences the bluntness of that question usually had the opposite affect. Instead of getting an accurate answer, he received a more evasive one which would result in a game of 'Guess What's Wrong with Mikey' which he wasn't sure he had the mental stamina for this early in the morning. Scratching his arm, Donnie frowned thoughtfully; he could figure this out.

Behavior and reactions were recordable, predictable, easy to decipher. Feelings? Not so much. Over the years, Donnie managed to cover up his incompetent interpersonal skills by focusing more on how his family behaved and reacted rather than how they felt. He was usually clever enough to match their behavior with the appropriate emotion.

The wheels turned fiercely in Donnie's mind as he began to puzzle together his brother's recent actions_. Mikey made me fancy coffee, which Mikey doesn't do, unless Mikey wants something, _Donnie thought, continuing his mental monologue,_ He would be cheesing up to me by now if he wanted something. Instead he's sitting in front of the TV, but not watching the TV even though his favorite show is on. Which clearly means he came to the den to avoid something, not watch TV. He's not harassing Raph….why? Because Raph obviously still has the upper-hand on him from last night's condom fiasco. So, he's avoiding Raph because he's still embarrassed...Yes, that sounds about right, but there's something else…_

Donnie had only figured out half the reason for Mikey's sullen behavior, but there was something else just below the surface that Donnie was having a hard time grasping. His eyes roamed over his brother in search of additional clues. His eyes caught sight of Mikey's hands.

Fidget. Snap. Fidget. Snap.

It was a clear rhythmic sound as Mikey pulled against his leg wrappings and let it go with a small reverberating 'snap'. _People make rhythmic sounds with their bodies when they are waiting for something. He's avoiding Raph, Leo just left the den, and he's definitely not eagerly awaiting practice with Master Splinter. That only leaves…me?_ Then the realization clicked.

The coffee, the isolated waiting; Mikey was definitely still embarrassed but he was also trying to make amends for last night. Mikey's ignorance had not only caused him to be mocked, but was the indirect cause of Donnie's teasing as well. He was waiting for Donnie to forgive him.

The internal deduction took a mere minute and thirty seconds in the genius turtle's mind, but it was still an exhausting thought process regardless.

It was beyond him why Mikey would need his forgiveness. It was a ridiculous notion. Wasn't Mikey's naiveté last night evident enough to avoid blame? It wasn't his filthy comments that were grating his nerves right now. Raph should be the one apologizing for dragging him into his mockery. Donnie never truly understood the complexity of emotions, and his youngest brother was constantly overflowing with them. As long as he used his logical 'cheat sheet' he could work around those sentiments for the most part.

_Well, there is no reason for both of us to feel rotten today._

Without a word, Donnie plopped down on the couch beside him, tapping his thumbs together across his plastron. "Hey," he said nonchalantly after another moment of silence.

"Hey," Mikey replied quietly without lifting his head from the fidgeting of his leg band.

"Who knew coffee could be so intricately artsy." Donnie said causally, his eyes never leaving his hands. Half a beat later, both brothers looked at each other with a small smile and immediately the silence was broken.

"You liked it?"

"It was awesome, tasted great too," He really was appreciative of the coffee even if a certain brother kept him from enjoying the last few morsels, "So how _did_ you draw a ninja in my coffee?" Donnie asked crossing his arms over his chest and quirking his brow.

"Dude, it was easy! I used a toothpick like a paintbrush, it's all in the wrist. The hardest part was making sure the milk was-"

He smiled and nodded as Mikey's voice took on its usual animated tone again. Donnie was glad he was able to pull the younger turtle out of his gloomy mood and in the process lightening his own mood. Now if they could just get this practice over with! He had so much work to do in his lab and—

"Don?"

Scratching his arm, Donnie blinked to attention at the sound of his name. "I'm listening….milk must be cold before steaming…pour and shake…toothpick for a brush, all in the wrist, got it." Donnie said with an impressive smirk. He was an expert at juggling several thought processes at once all while carrying on a conversation with someone. Mikey currently had about 80% of his attention.

"I was asking if we were cool?" Mikey asked again, his fist still held out to Donnie.

Make that 75% of his attention. Donnie saw the emotions dancing across Mikey's face again as he waited for his response.

"Always." Donnie said with a smile as he returned the fist bump. "It wasn't your fault anyway; Raph was being a-"

"Practice, guys!" Leo said clapping his hands together effectively interrupting Don and Mikey as he headed toward the dojo.

With a final look of reassurance to Mikey that all was well, Donnie rose to his feet scratching his arm as he reluctantly walked toward the dojo with Mikey close behind.

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review! Next chapter coming soon! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I'm back with another chapter. A big thank you to everyone who left reviews and PMs-they serve as excellent motivation to really give my all on these chapters. And those of you who added this story to your favorites and/or put me on your author alert, just want you to know you totally made my day! A big thanks to Novus Ordo Seclorum for allowing me to talk out my ideas to him! This chapter is a little longer and a lot more visually imaginative so I hope it comes across well. I hope you enjoy it!**

**12/12/14 - A/N: Found some grammatical errors, reposted revised version. Content has not changed!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

Stroking his bearded chin, he watched curiously as Leonardo led his brothers in their morning katas. Something was not quite right; their movements were sloppy, unbalanced. They stood in their usual eldest to youngest order performing the katas, but even their stance lacked unison. Leonardo and Raphael stood closer together and farther to his left, while Donatello and Michelangelo stood farther to the right. He noticed they did not eat breakfast together as they usually did. Leonardo and Raphael were the only ones in the kitchen and appeared to be having a hushed conversation when he made his tea this morning. Michelangelo and Donatello were chatting on the couch. He only hoped it was not the 'A team vs. B team' nonsense. His sons took the internal competition too far on one too many occasions. He hoped they learned by now they were stronger as one.

"Use any good _condiments_ this morning?"

"Shut up, Raph!"

"Silence!" Master Splinter bellowed for the third time in the past 20 minutes, "Raphael, straighten your stance! Michelangelo, balance from your center not your ankles!" Master Splinter looked back and forth between his students and saw the tension between them. Their behaviors were strangely opposing. Usually he reprimanded Michelangelo for his good-natured teasing and calmed Raphael's outbursts, not the other way around. Why Michelangelo was so irritated about food enhancements was beyond him. There was really no telling with sixteen year old mutant turtles. Raphael and Michelangelo were not the only ones acting strangely this morning.

Leonardo was generally his more focused student, always striving for perfection. However, he currently looked extremely anxious about something as his glance alternated from glaring at Raphael to smiling nervously at him.

_So there is something going on after all, and it involves ketchup and mustard apparently?... _Master Splinter thought curiously to himself. His eldest son's botheration was always a dead giveaway of his brothers' misconduct. What mischief were they covering up now?

Then there was Donatello, his quietest son. His movements were always concise and mechanical like a machine performing a series of preprogramed codes. His most intellectual student had the mechanics of ninjitsu down to a fine and unnerving art. It was merely a simple input/output formula to him.

Over the years, Master Splinter watched Donatello studied a variety of martial arts books, memorizing the proper stances and techniques, and permanently stored the knowledge into his expansive brain. Then, like an automated machine, the movements were reproduced—precise, but without personal rhythm; accurate, but without feeling. Splinter constantly encouraged him to be one with his movements; however, his encouragement was often met with trepidation and immediate mental shut down like a computer's defense system against a deadly virus. This more emotive aspect of ninjitsu at times seemed unattainable for Donatello, but it never stopped Splinter from trying to aid him in this area.

However, today there was something slightly awry with Donatello as well. Though his movements remained automated, if not a little sluggish, there was something just beyond the surface of his countenance that transfixed Splinter. Donatello was hardly one to be distracted by emotions while in practice, but there were obvious fragments of some sensation flashing briefly across his face before he made an attempt to mask it with indifference.

Something definitely transpired between last night and this morning, and Master Splinter planned to get to the bottom of it.

"Yame!" Master Splinter said sternly. The boys looked puzzled about being ordered to stop in the middle of a kata, but followed the instruction without question, "You will begin sparring now." He watched suspiciously as his sons looked at one another. Donatello walked toward Michelangelo as Leonardo walked toward Raphael.

"No," Their Sensei said stopping their current pairing, "Leonardo you will spar with Michelangelo and Donatello with Raphael." Both Leonardo and Donatello gave a collective sigh of complaint. Splinter emphasized his seriousness with the crack of his walking stick against the dojo floor. With lightening speed, his students immediately stood in position with their assigned sparring partner.

Donatello's body visibly tensed as he avoided any form of eye contact with Raphael. A brazen and cheeky smile was the only expression gracing Raphael's features. Both Leonardo and Michelangelo could hardly keep still, but it would appear, for different reasons. Splinter's careful observation found Leonardo's constant foot shuffling laced with subtle impatience as if he was ready for the sparring to end before it even started. Michelangelo, on the other hand, was practically bursting with eager anticipation of sparring with his oldest brother.

Splinter gave an inquisitive hum..._Peculiar behavior indeed. _

"Hajime!" Splinter shouted and the sparring began.

To an outsider, the four turtles appeared flawless in their ninjitsu training. However, Splinter was a master martial artist, trained to notice even the minutest details. He knew his sons' potentials on their best and worst days, and today was far from their best. Watching the spar between Leonardo and Michelangelo was interesting to say the least.

"For the last time, Not. Now." Leonardo said sharply between grinding teeth as he stood within inches of Michelangelo's face while his katana ground against the chain of his brother's nunchucks.

"Why not now? Raph's still ragging on me; how am I supposed to dish out a decent comeback if I don't even know what he's talking about?" Leonardo pushed away from Michelangelo with a firm kick to the plastron.

"You haven't _told_ him yet?" Donatello deadpanned, while blocking a sai with the twirl of his bo staff.

Leonardo shot Donatello a look, which provoked an eye roll and a side-to-side head shake from the purple-banded mutant, before turning his attention back to Michelangelo, "If you don't know what he's talking about then don't worry about it, just ignore him." Leonardo retorted in a low tone, easily avoiding a counter-attack while stealing a watchful glance at Master Splinter.

"C'mon, Leo, at least give me a hint." Michelangelo whined as he breakdanced into a nunchuck spinning uprock, glided into a downrock, and ended in a handstand before flipping over Leonardo's head, "Is it a human thing? You know, something only humans use?"

"Nope! As long as ya got the right tools, you can pretty much use 'em as much as you want—_hammer_ it down, _screw_ it in—the possibilities are endless!" Raph interrupted with a sardonic quip, delivering a forceful blow to Donnie's unprotected side, "You can pretty much _nail_ it as many times as you want, ain't that right, Brainiac?" Raphael gave a devilish grin as his sai met with the bo staff. Donatello mechanically blocked every attack, without responding to Raphael's baiting. "You got the right tools for the job, Donnie-Boy?" Donatello glared at Raph, smacking his bo staff defensively against Raphael's advancing attacks.

"Can it, Raph," Leonardo sneered over his shoulder dodging a foot aimed for his head, "And _y__ou_," He said catching his youngest brother's foot in the middle of a high kick and tugging it forward, "Would you please just stop talking, _please?_" Leonard practically begged in a harsh whisper as he stole yet another glance at Master Splinter, who simply quirked a brow at the odd conversation.

"Aw, you guys never tell me anything!" Michelangelo whined using the twisting momentum of his other leg to perform an aerial corkscrew, nearly clipping Leonardo on the chin, but effectively causing him to let go of his leg. A whirling nunchuck made contact with Leonardo's shell. Splinter couldn't stop the amused smirk rising from the corner of his mouth. Sparring with Michelangelo was like sparring with a horsefly. No matter how often you swatted him away, he came flying back—occasionally making painful contact.

Leonardo grunted as nunchucks hit his forearm and calf simultaneously. Splinter shook his head in disapproval. Whatever it was his eldest son did not want him to know, was consuming his focus as Michelangelo continued to spar and pester him. His lack of focus was leaving him wide open for easy strikes.

"Leonardo! Focus on your opponent's attacks instead of whether I can hear your conversations," Splinter lectured with a narrowed brow.

His eldest son faltered at the accusation. Taking full advantage of the his brother's pause, Michelangelo knocked a katana out of his hand, wrapped his kusarigama's chain around his legs, and pulled Leonardo flat on his shell in one fluent movement.

"You just got shellshocked, son! Yeah, boy!" Michelangleo boasted throwing up some random hand gestures. Leonardo groaned in annoyance. A loud thud and surprised cry of pain resounded from the other side of the dojo as a bo staff clattered to the floor landing at Master Splinter's feet.

"Get off me you overgrown Neanderthal!" Donatello shouted from beneath Raphael. Using an unorthodox wrestling move, the red-banded turtle had him pinned on his shell. He leaned back on Donatello's chest and pulled his leg into a painfully awkward position.

"Say it."

"No," Donatello's voice strained as he struggled beneath his bulkier older brother.

"Say it," Raphael pulled his leg back a few more inches.

Donatello stubbornly resisted trying desperately to shove Raphael off his chest, but it only made him throw his weight down even harder. With a pained gasp, Donatello mumbled something.

"I can't hear ya, Donnie-Boy." Raph taunted in a sing-song voice.

Humiliation choked his voice as he spoke quickly, "I like playing my tools and I have a small-"

"Raphael, yame!" Splintered commanded hitting his walking stick against the floor. Raphael had been taunting his two younger brothers during the majority of practice, but he would not stand for this physical bullying, especially not with his more sensitive son.

Donatello yelped as Raphael mercilessly dropped his leg and elbowed him in the gut while rising to his feet. Donatello stood up bending his knee cautiously, before forcefully scratching his arm. He gave his immediate older brother a 'I hope you drop dead' glare. Raphael promptly dismissed the glare with smug chuckle.

"Kneel." Obediently, all four turtles kneeled before their Sensei. He silently and sternly, stared and walked around them. He was not always hip to the pop culture references and euphemisms his sons often immersed themselves in, but he was far from being born yesterday. From the ambiguous bickering, he pieced together the wayward topic of discussion. He was a teenager once and knew the 'desires' that dwelled in the minds of young boys. He also knew the ramifications of such untamed desires.

He briefly sniffed the air around them. He smelt nothing more than their usual boyish odors. Though he had no physical proof of wrongdoing, their aggravated interactions was enough for Splinter to know that _something_ happened.

"Leonardo." Master Splintered said hovering over his knelt form.

"H-Hai, Sensei," Leonardo replied bowing his head a little lower.

"Would you care to explain the lack of balance and focus you and your brothers displayed during practice?"

"Well, we just, I mean," Leonardo fumbled over his words avoiding eye contact with Splinter.

"The truth fears no questions, Leonardo, I suggest you start there."

"It's Raph's fault!" Leonardo quickly blurted out, "He's the one that let Mikey believe—"

"And now you blame your brother? Is this the way a true leader behaves? Blaming his team instead of taking responsibility for his actions?"

"But I didn't _do_ anything!"

"And maybe that is the problem."

Leonardo's eye ridges shot up in bewilderment and then furrowed in slight confusion, "How did you know…" his voice trailed off. He seemed uncertain of what to say without further incriminating himself.

"Know what?!" Michelangelo threw his arms in the air, "No one tells me anything, and now Sensei knows!" He grumbled from the end of the lineup.

"No he doesn't!" Leonardo snapped at the youngest, who promptly clamped his mouth shut, finally realizing his brother's irritation. Splinter observed the slight twitch in the leader's left eye, and calmly cleared his throat eliciting a nervous chuckle from the turtle in blue as he tried to smooth over his response, "I mean you don't know...because there's nothing _to_ know, Sensei."

"Oh? Then I can assume your bickering was not about sexual double entendres?" Splinter asked watching Leonardo's face pale drastically. "That is what I thought. Your minds should be focused on more productive things instead of the use of_condiments_ and your _power tools_." At the use of their innuendos, a muffled snicker was heard to his right, "Do you find this amusing, Raphael?"

"Actually, yeah, a little bit." Raphael said his voice low trying to control the laughter in the back of his throat.

"Then maybe you will find 50 backflips amusing as well." Raphael huffed, glowering at the floor as he clutched his fists at his sides. Donatello offered his brother a self-righteous smile, before Raphael punched him roughly in the arm. He grimaced before scratching his arm again.

Splinter sighed. He had no idea what sparked this sudden interest in condoms. The boys were growing up so fast, becoming young men. He wasn't one hundred percent sure what they were actually doing when they patrolled the city….Or were they even patrolling at all? The city held so many sexual immoralities just waiting to corrupt his boys. His furry brows rose at the possibilities. They had better _not_ be doing what he thought they _could_ be doing. No, not his boys. Maybe their squabbling was just innocently promiscuous, but just in case there were tainted actions involved….

"50 backflips. All of you."

Shocked eyes blinked at him before the simultaneous complaining began.

"I don't even know what's going on!" Michelangelo pouted.

"Now or it will be 150."

"Hai Sensei." They said dolefully.

"You should have just told him. You know how Mikey gets when we don't tell him things." Donatello said in an informative tone. Though judging from Leonardo's caustic expression, he probably came across as more of a know-it-all instead.

"Stop your complaining, Brainiac, you're just mad 'cause you can't—"

"I swear if you say, 'play with your tools' one more time…."

"That's what _April_ said."

"Boys! More counting, less bickering!" Master Splinter massaged his temple as he listened to his students count their flips as they performed them.

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><p>60 backflips later (Raphael's heckling resulted in an extra ten for everyone), Splinter decided a meditation session would be benefical in clearing the minds of his lustful students. Sitting in front of their Sensei, the brothers took the traditional lotus position. Once certain all eyes were closed, Splinter relaxed, closing his eyes as he talked his sons into a meditative state.<p>

"Continue to focus on your breathing. Let your thoughts pass by undisturbed; just focus on breathing as you find your inner balance." Splinter's breathing slowed to a peaceful rate as he allowed his corporal surroundings to melt away. "Your balance is in the natural rhythm of your breathing. Feel the coolness of the air drift past your nose and fill your lungs; now exhale."

After finding his own meditational balance, Splinter tuned in to his sons' presence. In the beginning their breathing was loud and rushed, but within minutes their panting mellowed into a slow rhythmic pace. Splinter allowed his spiritual eyes to open within the spiritual plane. Blinking away the last remnants of carnal sight, he no longer saw his sons before him, but a spiritual depiction of their beings. Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, and Michelangelo were symbolized by blue, red, purple, and orange vapor-like apparitions, respectively.

The blue vapor making up his eldest son's essence formed an image of the scales of justice. A constant stream of water flowed in one scale and then the other, tethering the scale like a see-saw but never truly becoming balanced. There were constant struggles for balance within Leonardo: teenager or adult; boldness or reservation; leader or brother; self-perservation or self-sacrifice? Though the flow of water in the scale was always calm and gentle, these conundrums kept Leonardo's internal scales constantly shifting. Splinter expected him to find his balance and maintain it under the most strenous circumstances, yet a times he seemed to waver over the simpliest matters. He was confident with more meditation and training he would master this balance. As leader, this was not a option, but a necessity.

Raphael's aura was quite the opposite; more volatile and less controlled. His bright red aura moved more like a blazing flame, lapping this way and that. His soul burned with a compassion so fierce it threatened to consume him. Splinter observed his son's efforts to control the fiery emotions within him. He watched as the flame slowly simmered to a calm flicker before once again combusting into a wild fire that spread past the outlines of his body. The fiery cycle of flame-flicker-flame, would no doubt continue throughout the remainder of the meditation session. Splinter knew the temperamental struggle Raphael dealt with on a daily basis. Fear fanned the flames of his reckless anger. Fear of rejection, fear of losing loved ones, fear of self-worth, fear of simply being loved. Pointing this out to him often resulted in bigger unruly flames that took days to mellow back into a flicker again. Raphael's hotheadedness in full swing was harrowing, but his determination to control it was admirable.

As his eyes moved to his next son, Splinter frowned with concern at Donatello's meditative state, or rather his lack of meditation. Auras naturally gravitated toward one's center. Eerily, Donatello's center was a spiritual ghost town. The only mystical projection occupying Donatello's core was the illusion of a small metal box secured with a single padlock. Splinter sighed. Donatello's aura always appeared very reserved, retreating back on itself, much like his introverted personality. However, this mental 'box' was a fairly new development in the turtle's meditative state. It was dangerous to keep one's emotional state under lock and key in such a way.

Despite the grave quietness of his core, an array of activity occupied his headspace. The silhouette of Donatello's head displayed busy apparitions of purple gears clanking and turning to a numbered rhythm; long algorithm scripts warped around them like electrons orbiting an atom. The intellectual mindscape of his second youngest was staggering to Splinter. Donatello's meditative state was like standing in the middle of the stock exchange, but instead of stock prices, his mental screens displayed chemical equations with research notes scrolling across the bottom.

Splinter could barely focus on one scientific thought before a more complicated one overlapped and linked it to a mathematical equation somehow making perfect sense in Donatello's mind. Yet with all the commotion taking place in the young turtle's brain, his core remained motionless. Every now and then a shimmer of purple light glowed through the seams of the box before dying down into disquieting darkness. Such imbalances in the soul were unhealthy and chilling. Thinking about the ramifications of such inconsistencies sent a shudder through Splinter's soul.

Before Splinter could dwell on the issue any further, an orange vapor stretched into view. It clumsily extended toward the outskirts of Donatello's body. The lonely vapor was vibrant and fast, curiously clinging here and there in the meditative plane. Such a warm spirit, it felt like….

Splinter's eyes snapped open from the spiritual realm. Stumbling forward on his knees, he immediately grabbed his youngest son by the shoulders and shook him harshly.

"MICHELANGELO!" The sudden alarm in his voice startled his other three sons out of their meditation. Just as Splinter prepared to slap him across the face, his unconscious son abruptly inhaled. His weary blue eyes finally met his father's eyes.

"Mikey!...What happened?...Is he okay?" Master Splinter held up a single pawed finger effectively silencing his sons' collective voices of worry, but it didn't keep them from hovering around their Sensei and youngest brother.

"Michelangelo. My son, can you hear me?" Splinter said calmly, though his voice was laced with fatherly concern.

The youngest turtle blinked a few times, looking around as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm fine, Sensei…." He answered slowly looking around at Splinter then his brothers. He squirmed with embarassment under their apprehensive stares, "I fell asleep again, didn't I?"

"No, my son, you were not asleep," Splinter said touching the side of Michelangelo's face before letting his hand slide down to gently grip his shoulder. He sighed with relief at the sound of his son's voice and the warmth in his face, "Your spirit is very much awake...and drifting. It is very important that you focus while meditating, Michelangelo. Your wandering attention will not be as forgivable in the spiritual realm."

Splinter knew this would happen one day. Of all of his sons, Michelangelo was his most spirited. Strongly underestimated yet full of raw untapped potential. He didn't just think outside the box, he didn't see the box at all, never truly knowing his limitations. Both a unique and dangerous trait. He lived, learned, and even meditated without limitations. His lively aura often danced around the borders of his corporeal body, always testing its safety limits. This time, however, Michelangelo's aura actually left his body curiously floating beside his brother.

A wide yawn from the orange banded turtle, pulled Splinter from his thoughts. He needed to sit and talk to his youngest alone—without the distraction of his brothers—about his 'drifting' issue. But not now. The mere inches he drfited from his body had obviously taken a small toll on him. The talk would have to wait until later.

"Leonardo, Raphael. Take your brother to the kitchen and give him something to eat. Do not allow him to sleep."

"For how long, Sensei?" Leonardo asked as he and Raphael helped Michelangelo to his feet.

"Until Donatello and I are finished in the dojo." Splinter's response caused a wide-eyed double take from Donatello. He looked at his Sensei questioningly, but Splinter offered no further explanation. Leonardo nodded wrapping his arm across Michelangelo's shell to steady the drowsy turtle, "I also suggest you both take this time to clear up any confusion you and Raphael have caused your brother concerning…._condiments and power tools_, understood?"

"Hai, Sensei." The two oldest said in solemn unison as they left the dojo with Michelangelo between them.

Subcousiously scratching his arm, Donatello spoke in his usual quiet demeanor, "I should probably check on him, medically speaking, just to make sure-"

"Your brother is fine, Donatello. It is you I am concerned about. Sit." Master Splinter motioned to his son's previous spot on the dojo mat.

As Donatello's lips moved to form a protest, Splinter quirked a challenging brow silencing the teen. With a small sigh Donatello took his place on the mat.

**TBC...**

**A/N: Poor Donatello. A meeting with Master Splinter can't be good, right? And how exactly does Leo plan to explain 'condiments and power tools' to Mikey?...are you guys even interested in seeing that conversation? Review! Let me know what you think so far! More chapters soon!**

**~Poetique**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Happy New Year Everyone! Sorry for the delay. I was really sick over the holidays and didn't get around to finish this chapter as quickly as I planned. Hopefully this longer chapter will make up for my absence. I had A LOT of fun writing this one, so I hope you guys enjoy it as well. As always, reviews and critiques are welcome! And thanks to all of you who reviewed and/or added this story on your alert. 30 reviews?...I'm still in shock!**

**1/9/2015 - Grammatical revisions; content has not changed.**

**Chapter 5**

"Bros, I'm totally fine, honest," I protest half-heartedly as Leo and Raph lead me into the kitchen. I sigh as my words land on deaf ears. Leo fumbles through the refrigerator while Raph pushes me down in the nearest chair at the kitchen table before sitting beside me, "Okay, so I'll sit," I mumble at Raph's manhandling. He scowls at me, crossing his arms over his plastron.

"Could ya move any slower, Fearless? Geez," Raph snaps at Leo while still keeping an eye on me. Leo doesn't say anything back, but gives Raph a look that clearly says 'cool it'.

I tug at my wrist wrappings. A testy Raph is a worried Raph, but his watchful stare is making me squirm. I just feel a little tired, that's all. Nothing to freak out about.

"Here you go, Mike, eat up," Leo says quietly as he slides a plate of pizza in front of me. He sits to my right sporting a tight-lipped smile—the kind of smile he gives when he wants to hide how he really feels, but I can see right through it. He's just as worried about me as Mr. Frowny-Pants over here.

I look at my older brothers before looking down at the two slices of pepperoni pizza in front of me. I could totally get use to this kind of service! I look up again only to find Leo and Raph still staring at me. As much as I love the attention, it wasn't worth seeing the tense and worried looks on their faces. I really don't understand why their buggin' like this. It's not like this is the first time Master Splinter's lectured me about my short attention span.

'Michelangelo! You must focus. Michelangelo! Pay attention. Michelangelo! Do not sleep, meditate! '

It's the story of my life.

Funny thing is, Master Splinter said I wasn't asleep in meditation. Maybe I wasn't asleep this time, but it still felt like I was dreaming. I felt really stretchy like Plastic Man. I was reaching for these moving colors. The colors were fuzzy, but I knew if I could just stretch a little further I could touch them. Then, all of a sudden, this force pulls me down like a nail to a magnet, and then I woke up feeling kind of 'bleh' with Master Splinter and my bros staring at me. It was the strangest feeling ever. Even stranger than the time I got my t-cell stuck in my shell.

"Would ya eat the freakin' pizza already?" Raph leans forward and impatiently slams his hand on the table.

His sudden outburst jerks me out of my thoughts. I quickly pick up a slice of pizza and make haste taking a huge bite hoping to appease my irritable brother. I take two more large bites and move on to the next slice. Guess I'm hungrier than I thought.

"Raph," Leo lectures, "there's no need for the attitude."

"Whatever," Raph replies with a snort, "Just don't wanna be stuck here babysitting the runt for the next hour." He leans backward balancing on the back legs of his chair. Leo rolls his eyes. I feign a small pout.

I polish off the second slice of pizza and proceed to suck extra tomato sauce from my fingers. Pizza is officially the cure-all for the 'Bleh.' That's the name I'm giving this weird feeling.

"So, what exactly happened back there, Mikey?" Leo asks, his voice takes on a more serious tone.

I look down at my empty plate. I'm not good at explaining this kind of stuff to my brothers. They always look at me weird, like when I tried to tell them about the mutant I fought named 'PizzaFace', they didn't remember, 'cause they were turned into pizza zombies. I totally saved the day! Pretty awesome, right? Tried to tell my bros, but they said it was just a bad dream, even after I begged them to believe me. They _never_ take me seriously.

"Yo! Earth to bonehead, ya still with us?" Raph snaps his fingers in front of my face pulling me from my thoughts once again.

Right, so I'll just tell them I was floating through empty space and seeing trippy colors, because that will totally _not_ make me look like a goofball and a nutcase. Yeah, definitely keeping that one to myself.

So, I flash a casual lopsided smile and shrug, "I don't know, guys, guess I was daydreaming during meditation and just kind of zonked out." I force my smile a little more for a good show.

"Figures. Freakin' space cadet…" Raph grumbles more to himself then to us as he continues to rock on the back legs of his chair.

Leo doesn't take the bait so quickly. He looks me over and juts out his bottom lip as if he's inspecting the truthfulness of my words.

I relax my brows into a more apologetic expression.

Leo breathes out a sigh, "Mikey, you should at least _try_ to pay attention during meditation."

Ha! And the award for most illusive little brother goes to…

"Sure, Leo, I'll work on it," I assure him, this time with a more genuine smile.

"No Mikey. No more 'working on it."

I shrink in my chair and pick at my wrist wrappings. He's using _that_ tone again. This isn't going the way I planned. I feel a lecture coming on….

"You always say you're working on it, but I don't see any improvements to show for it. If you spent half as much time practicing meditation techniques as you do playing video games, then we wouldn't be sitting here making sure you don't pass out."

"I'm fine, Leo, really." I say quietly not able to look my oldest brother in the eyes. He's frustrated with me, I get it. I screwed up as usual. Getting reprimanded by Leo can be just as bad—if not worse—as getting lectured from Master Splinter.

Leo's like all kinds of awesome! He's brave, always has a plan, determined, and a kick-butt ninja….pretty much everything a superhero should be. I can imagine him standing on the tallest rooftop, mask tails swishing behind him in the wind. A ninja warrior of light in a city of villainess darkness, slashing out crime with his katanas of truth and justice….wow, that sounds wicked cool, I should make that into a comic!

In practice, I try _really_ hard to copy Leo's sense of discipline, but I just don't have that kind of…

"…Focus is the key...If you would just take the time to….Michelangelo! Are you even listening?!"

Oops. "Er…yeah, focus is key, got it!" I quickly cover my absent-mindedness and give a sheepish thumbs-up. Leo breathes out another tired sigh.

"Really, Fearless? You gonna lecture the goofball on 'focusin' and he took you out with a single move?" Raph chimes in making air quotes and smiles haughtily at Leo.

I show off my own victorious smile. A tint of embarrassment floods Leo's cheeks at Raph's little jab. Yeah, who knew talking about condoms would have Leo in such a tizzy. Curiosity calls to me and perks my mood. My attention span holds true to its nature, as I flip to a more interesting subject, "So what's a condom?" I lean my crossed arms over the table, not wanting to miss a single word.

Leo ducks his head, rubbing the back of his neck. He groans. He didn't think I would let it slide that easily, did he? Besides, Master Splinter says they _have_ to tell me and when Sensei gives a command, it's a done deal.

"Well, um, you see…"

My eyes are eagerly locked on my eldest brother, ready to hear this well-kept secret.

Taking a deep breath, Leo closes his eyes before beginning again, "You remember when Donnie's voice started changing a few years ago—"

"Ya mean when Don sounded like Darth Vader on helium?..." Raph quipped with a chuckle, "Ah, good times."

"Anyway," Leo continues, "You remember when Master Splinter took us all into the dojo and had 'the talk' with us?"

I nod slowly. That was the most awkward lesson in history of awkward lessons.

"So, you understand we have different….parts that are….different from girls? You know how our bodies and female bodies work….right?" I try to follow Leo's weird hand gestures but only find myself confused and dizzy. Leo's face grimaces into so many different shades of discomfort, it's almost painful to watch.

Now it was my turn to be exasperated, "Yes, Leo. I know our junk is different from girls' junk….probably different from human guy's junk, too…." I prop my chin under my fist; that mental image intrigues me for a moment as I give it serious thought.

"Junk?" Leo says raising his brow with a rather disgusted look on his face.

"Penises and vaginas, you dork."

"RAPH!"

"What?"

"I know what he means!"

Raph shrugs, "Just thought you needed some clarification."

Leo glares at Raph for a solid minute before turning his attention back to me.

"Okay, okay, that's good that you know….that," Leo tries unsuccessfully to casually smile at me, but it looks more like a nervous tick is attacking his face, "Okay. Right. So, condoms?..."

"Condoms," I confirm with an eager nod, hoping he will take it as a hint to continue.

"Okay. Right…" Leo repeats before rubbing the back of his neck again.

I think I broke Leo, and that usually doesn't happen until after lunch.

"Jeez, for cryin' out loud, I'll tell him!" Raph volunteers clattering his chair back on all four legs again.

This seems to loosen Leo from his broken record mode as he looks at Raph stunned by the mere suggestion.

"Oh, no you're not! You've done enough!"

"Well its better than sittin' here listenin' to you trip over your words, like a freakin' prude."

"Guys?..."

"Please, like you know the first thing about condoms!"

"Guys…"

"Ha! You wish you knew as much as I do about condoms!"

"GUYS!" I shout at my arguing brothers. Now that I have their undivided attention, I continue in my normal laid-back voice, "It's awesome that you guys know such much about condoms, really it is, but I still don't know jack! So could somebody just tell me-"

* * *

><p>"What's going on?" I ask Sensei as I kneel under the dojo's tree, scratching that insufferable itch for the umpteenth time. "For the record, I had nothing to do with the whole condom fiasco, Master Splinter. I didn't even-"<p>

"I know you were unaware of your brothers'….condom fiasco, as you call it. However, it is not what I wish to speak with you about."

"If it's about the security system, Leo already told me the wiring in the west tunnels need—"

"Donatello," I shut my mouth at his tone; it is not harsh, but still peaceably demands my silence. "This does not concern the security systems. Still your mind, my son….please."

He paces slowly in front of me, stroking his bread after every third step. His whiskers twitch on the offbeat of his tail as it swipes back and forth across the floor behind him. His brows furrow slightly. These subconscious actions easily tell me something is bothering him. I'm just not sure if it's frustration from our practice, or something I personally have or have not done. Let's see, I haven't disassembled or blown up anything lately. Although, I can think of a few things that need fixing around the Lair. Yes, there's the toaster, the leak in the bathroom—

"Donatello," The warm touch on my shoulder tugs me from my thoughts. I look up to see Master Splinter sitting in front of me. I didn't even notice him sit down, "Still your mind. I simply wish to talk with you."

"Okay…." He chuckles at my skeptical tone, but says nothing else as we sit in silence for a few more minutes. I absently scratch the itch on my arm.

"Let me see." Without waiting for a response, he gently takes my itching arm into his hands. Rotating it slowly he frowns at the angry red skin. The outer edges of the redness are decorated with peeling flakes of olive green skin. I grimace in disgust. I didn't realize I scratched so hard.

Master Splinter pinches off a leaf from an aloe vera plant growing in a small patch near the root of the tree. He told me once he only grew herbs that were supplemental to the body and mind. With a single claw, he splits the leaf lengthwise and smoothly scopes out the gelly substance with his finger.

"When you and brothers were twelve, you were the first to have a growth spurt and your skin shed in a similar manner," He gently brushes away the shed skin from my arm, " I wondered if your brothers would catch up to your height. It seem to trouble Leonardo immensely," he says fondly with a slight smile as he rubs the aloe vera gel on my irritated skin. It's cool and soothing. The itching stops almost immediately.

"Great, just what I need. To be freakishly taller than I am right now." I grumble more to myself than to him.

"You are neither the first nor last young man to experience the awkwardness of growing up," he says in a way that makes me slightly less miserable about the thought of another growth spurt.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about?" I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.

"My son, I have watched you master many things over the years. The brilliance behind the things you invent is truly phenomenal."

"Nothing phenomenal about it," I look down at my knees. I'm not sure where he's going with this conversation. I pensively nibble on my lip. Complements from Sensei do not come easily, so I'm not sure how to respond, "Just…just a lot of studying and tinkering I suppose."

"I suppose so." He absently hums his response, "There is one thing I notice you still struggle greatly with mastering." I quickly look up blinking in disbelief. That doesn't sound right. He smiles at my lack of verbal response, "Do not look so surprised. Even the wisest man in the world still has much to learn."

"Sorry, Sensei. It's just that everything I learn, I work hard to perfect, so it's highly unlikely that there are errors in my completed projects."

Master Splinter quirks an amused brow at my comment.

Okay, so maybe that last part was a bit….much. My brothers constantly remind me of how arrogant I come across to others, and I'm pretty sure I'm doing it again. I really _do_ take great care in every formula, machine, or repair I work on, to ensure it all performs to perfection. I have data logs to prove it! Honestly, how is that being arrogant?

"It is not your science and engineering work that I speak of. Your struggles are in your ninjutsu training. You have shown little improvement in some of the more basic techniques."

My mouth is slightly agape as I stare at my father. I try to cover my embarrassment and regain my composure. Is he confirming the very thoughts that plague my mind?

_You're not as good as your brothers._

I try to shake the words from my head and swallow my shame. I know I'm not the fastest, fiercest, or most devoted in training, but I _know_ ninjutsu.

"Sensei, I've studied all 18 disciplines of ninjutsu. I can effectively use my naginata both defensively and offensively, if necessary. I even studied the human anatomy to better understand-."

"Seishin-teki kyôyô." Master Splinter says simply.

"Spiritual refinement." I translate without missing a bit, "I can recite and define the other 17 disciplines as well." I have to prove to him that I am just as experienced as my brothers, that I'm not some invalid ninja.

He holds up his hand putting an end to any further defense of my impressive ninjutsu knowledge.

I know the proper forms and techniques of my weapon, but every time I look into Sensei's eyes I can see the expectation of more. I know the history of ninjutsu inside and out, what more can I possibly learn to prove I am an asset? For all the ninjutsu knowledge I gained from books, my brothers always seem to have an upper hand when we practice together. Through steady observation, I know for a fact I am more focused than Mikey; I don't let emotions control me like Raph; and even with Leo's perfectionism, I remember more intricate details of the art form than he ever will. Yet I can see their growth, their acceleration in their training. Where does that leave me?

"That won't be necessary." Sensei continues, "You have an exceptional understanding of the other disciplines, but it is your lack of skill in Spiritual refinement that worries me the most."

I shift uncomfortably in my knelt position. I try not to sigh, because I already know what's coming.

"During meditation, I noticed something of great concern. Your mind, as always, an array of luminous activity, but your spirit…." He pauses thoughtfully before continuing again, "Donatello, we talked about this before and I assumed you took heed when I told you to practice your meditation skills. I do not make a habit to pry into you or your brothers' meditative states but felt the need to during today's session. It pains me to say, but your lack of spiritual energy disturbs me. I fear you are regressing in this discipline."

"That doesn't seem possible, Sensei. I always concentrate during meditation."

"No, my son, you are always _thinking_ during meditation. Again, I tell you meditation is not only the awareness of the mind, but also of the body and spirit."

This time I can't help but allow a small sigh to escape my lips.

"You still do not embrace the spiritual aspects of meditation. Why?"

I remain silent. I know my answer will not sit well with him. He continues his lecture at my lack of response, "You are afraid of your spiritual awareness."

"I'm not afraid." I state simply. Why would I be afraid of a fictional concept?

"Then let us meditate together." He holds his hands out to me, palms up. I stare at him, but do not make an immediate move to take my father's hands. I've had one-on-one meditation sessions with Master Splinter before; he usually walks me through breathing techniques and such, and I end up just mentally reviewing computer schematics without him being the wiser. I'm not sure why physical contact during this meditational nonsense gives me pause. The whole thing just seems-

* * *

><p>"Ridonkulous!" I exclaim between laughs, "I mean, why would a dude ever wanna put <em>that<em> on their junk?"

"Will you stop calling it junk?!" Leo says. His awkwardness is quickly replaced with annoyance once the conversation started getting really interesting.

"_Fine, _'privates'," I correct using air quotes, "But seriously, why would a dude blow up a condom and tie it to their juh..er…privates?" Leo and Raph stare at me like I suddenly grew a second head.

The silence breaks as Raph's loud laughter fills the kitchen.

"Have you listened to a word I've said?!" Leo continues to stare at me with wide eyes. His elbows are propped on the table as he shakes his head in his hands, "Unbelievable…."

I frown at his accusing tone, "Of course I have, bro. You said guys put condoms on before they _do it_…..its just that….wouldn't a chick think a dude was a little weird having a condom floating from his junk?"

"You don't blow them up, you idiot!" Raph bellows between mocking laughter.

"What Raph means to say is, people don't actually blow up condoms when they are…sexually active. What you saw last night was just humans acting irresponsibly and treating condoms like toys," Leo says in his mature, 'I'm the oldest therefore I know these things' voice.

"Oh." I reply timidly after being laughed at Raph. Big meanie. "So, if you don't tie it on….how….how do you put it…?"

"Just roll it on." Raph said like it is the most obvious thing in the world. It really irks me when he does that. Like, everybody in the entire universe knows about the mysterious world of condoms except me.

"You make it sound like you're painting a wall." Leo said unimpressed by Raph's answer.

"Well, if you don't roll it on, then you _will _be painting the walls, if ya know what I mean" Raph wags his eye ridges at Leo, another joke I'm obviously not in on. Aside from being adorable, being the youngest sucks.

Leo narrows his eyes at Raph with a withering glare, "Real classy, Raph."

I look back and forth between Leo and Raph, waiting for more details. They can't start talking about condoms and then jump to painting walls without filling in the blanks.

"You do know condoms block the white lightening, right?" Raph says sobering up a bit from his previous laughter.

I blink and stare at him, "White lightening?" Sounds like a 70's superhero.

"Yeah, ya know homemade yogurt, baby batter, jerk-off juice, and if you gotta _real_ lady, facial cream. Oh, there's also-."

"OKAY! I get it, dude!" I practically shout, my voice begging him to stop before I melt in my seat from total embarrassment. The dots have been connected, I _really_ get it now. Condoms. Condiments. _Not _the same thing. Not sure where the power tools come into play, but then again, I'm not sure I really want to know, "That's just sick, bro."

"No sicker than what you do in the shower every morning."

"NO I DON'T" I cry out, mortified by my brother's declaration.

"You don't _what_, little brother?" He says, slyly trapping me with my own words.

"I…..shut up, Raph!" I cross my arms over my plastron and sulk in my chair, I suck in my lip so it doesn't look like I'm being a baby. I know I shouldn't let Raph get to me, but, God, sometimes he's just horrible to be around. Sure, I tease him, but never like this…..

"Hey! Knock it off you two! Sensei is still in the dojo with Donnie and I'm sure he wouldn't appreciate all the noise, so shush!" Leo says to both of us even though he's looking at Raph.

"Don't shush me, you shush." Raph cops an attitude, muttering something that sounds like 'Splinter Jr.', but, for once, Leo doesn't indulge him.

"Look, Mikey, its not rocket science," Leo starts in his matter-of-fact tone, "Guys put them on before they are….sexual with a girl, so they don't get pregnant."

"Guys don't get pregnant, Leo." I mimic his tone, redeeming myself from earlier naivety. Now who's the dummy?

"What?...No, Mikey, that's not what I meant!"

"But you said—"

"Forget what I said!" Leo snaps. I lean away from him. Leo can be a little scary when his eye starts twitching like that, "Would you just pay attention?!" His hands shake in front of him like he wants to strangle me.

I remain silent, stuck between Leo's impatience and Raph's mockery.

"As I was saying, it keeps the _girl _from getting pregnant." Leo continues, eyeing me pointedly, "Condoms also protects against diseases." I quirk my brows curiously. "Seriously, Mikey?...Master Splinter told us all of this when we were like thirteen! How do you not know _any_ of this?"

"I do know this stuff!….sort of….I mean, most of it…." I trail off. I really do remember the talk Master Splinter had with us when we started becoming 'young men' (Master Splinter's words, not mine), but it's not like he had any samples on exhibit for us to see. I've never been good at understanding things without pictures and examples. Words don't always stick to my brain, so I have to see how stuff works to understand them. None of my other brothers are like that….just me.

"Another example of what happens when you don't pay attention, Michelangelo."

Great, now he's using my full name, "But, Leo-"

"We wouldn't be having this conversation if you had paid attention during Master Splinter's talk. You also would have known those weren't balloons and saved yourself a lot of embarrassment, and those backflips could have been avoided too."

Now this is my fault? Leo makes a big deal out of everything, why can't he just be on my side for once?

"The little twerp spaces out even when he _is _paying attention." Raph says, even though no one asks for his two cents, "I swear it's like his brain's permanently set to stupid."

_'Michelangelo! You must focus. Michelangelo! Pay attention. Michelangelo, you're stupid.'_

The comical story of my life, right?

"Ha!" I give an exaggerated laugh, holding my side with one arm and slapping my other hand down on the table, "Good one, Raph!"

Takes more than a lecture from Leo and few low blows from Raph to bring this turtle down.

"Thanks for the sex ed. 101, bros; I totally get the whole condom thing now, " I mask my hurt with my usual charming smile as I raise my feet in the chair, moving to a squatting position, "I've got a new high score to beat on Galaxy Invaders! Later, dudes!" And with those parting words I push off with my legs, backflipping out of the chair and make a beeline for the den. Jumping over the back of the couch, I flop down on the middle cushion and fish out the game controller from between the seats.

**_Would you just pay attention?!_**

**_I swear it's like his brain's permanently set to stupid._**

I turn on my gaming system trying not to allow the words to sink into my psyche, but from the way my chest is tightening, I realize their words have already hit a nerve.

I sigh softly to myself as the game's intro appears on the tv screen. I just need to take my mind off things and-

* * *

><p>"Relax," Sensei quietly says as he lightly squeezes my tense hands in his paws, "We will try a different form of meditation."<p>

"Okay," I say, briefly opening my eyes to see my Sensei in deep concentration. This is the third time he's made me meditate in the past twenty minutes. Progress to notate? None. I exhale deeply as I close my eyes again.

"I want you to imagine a place that brings you peace."

After a bit of thought I think about—

"Not your lab."

I huff with slight annoyance as I try and think of another peaceful place.

"Let me help you," Sensei says after a few more awkward moments of coming up empty on a peaceful location, "Imagine you are sitting on a mountainside. Feel the grass beneath you. Hear the soft rustle of leaves as the wind gently blows through the trees. See the beauty of nature around you."

I furrow my brows as I try to visualize the scene Master Splinter is describing. I remember reading a geography book about the Andes Mountains. It's the longest continental mountain range in the world. They are home to many wonderful creatures, like the llama and chinchilla. And the plant life at such attitudes is absolutely—

"Donatello, you are dwelling on your thoughts again," Master Splinter says with a sigh.

Correction. This is the fourth in the past twenty-five minutes he's made me meditate. I'm so desperate to get back to my lab, if I could fake a meditative state I would do it in a heartbeat.

Sensei sighs again. He must be just as frustrated as I am, "We will try once more."

"Hai, Sensei," I say reluctantly.

"Just meditate….as you usually do."

I look at him questioningly.

"You are allowed to think," he says wryly.

I exhale, relieved by Sensei's approval. No more imaginary mountains or counting my breaths; just me and my thoughts. Logic, oh, how I've missed thee! So, I close my eyes and start thinking about alternative chemical compounds that may work with the limited amount of mutagen in my lab.

"Do you see your thoughts, Donatello?"

I frown. What does he mean do I see my thoughts? Sure, I can envision the appropriate equations, but-

Oh. This is what he means….

My eyes are closed, but what I'm seeing right now would seem impossible even if my eyes were open. I am physically seeing every idea and thought racing through my mind at this very second. I watch in awe as scripts of printed data warp across the space around me like electrons and protons orbiting an atom. I tilt my head upward to see large screens emitting a purple glow as they display the latest blueprints for a new tracking device I'm working on. It's a glorious city of perpetual science and math. "Yes, Sensei, I can see them," I confirm with a slow smile, still in wonder of this place, "How is this even possible? Am I seeing my brainwaves?"

"Not exactly," He explains, "You are seeing your meditative state. It is a figurative image of your mind"

"Why haven't I seen this before?" I ask as I literally (or is it figuratively?) grab hold of a formula I've been working on for the past two weeks. I always think about my projects when I meditate, but the fact that I'm physically holding a _thought_ in my hands is pretty amazing.

"I am with you in your meditative state, helping you see what I see with spiritual eyes," following his voice, I turn around to find Sensei walking toward me. He moves to the side to avoid a train of thought that passes between us, "One's meditative state is a very intimate terrain. I always respect you and brothers' privacy while meditating, only stepping in your spiritual space when there is need for concern."

"Like with Mikey." I state. I still don't understand why he insists on meditating with me when there is obviously something wrong with my younger brother, "He looked pretty dazed after meditation. Are you sure he's-"

"Michelangelo will be fine. Drifting, even for a short distance, can drain one's spirit, but Michelangelo is safe now and I will work with him on meditating just as I am working with you right now," Splinter says simply.

"So if this is my 'meditative state', as you call it, then I must be meditating, so I don't understand where further training is needed."

"You are indeed in your meditative state, but you are not meditating. You are still _thinking. _ In order to truly meditate, you must acknowledge your thoughts and then let them go."

"What do you mean 'let them go'?" I ask. With his hand on my shoulder, he motions to the formula fluttering in my grasp like a caught butterfly.

"Let it go," he repeats. I hesitate. I can't just let this go! I think I might be able to condense the reactants of this formula and-

"Donatello! Let go, now!" At the urgency of my father's tone I release the formula and watch it flutter away before falling in line with my other orbiting thoughts, "Look out!" Before I can ask 'why', he pulls me roughly to his side. I watch as a swarm of word equations dive down to the spot I was standing in before abruptly zipping up and following the formula I was holding just seconds ago. "You are not use to this spiritual realm. Do as I say. You do not realize how dangerous a place your ingenious mind can be. Stay close."

I nod dumbly, unable to articulate the proper words for what I just saw. Did I almost get mowed down by my own thoughts? Mikey would swear this is was a scene straight out of the Twilight Zone. I smirk at the thought of my little brother's overactive imagination as I follow behind Master Splinter. As we leave my spiritual headspace, our surrounds start to change. The purple glow and hum of brain activity fades behind us. Wherever we are headed is much quieter with dimmer lighting.

I wrap my arms around myself trying to stave off an oncoming shiver. The quietness is unnerving.

"Where are we going?" I break the silence as my voice echoes. I look around, but can't see much. Beyond the dim omniscient lights there is nothing. There is only endless nothingness. My stomach knots together like a cluster of screws and bolts; my chest tightens like it's in a vice grip.

I stop walking.

I feel uncomfortable, but I don't know why and not knowing why scares me beyond comprehension. Something brushes against my shell and I nearly take a defensive stance until I feel the fabric of Father's robe against me. He holds me close a moment before pulling away. I look up at him releasing air from my lungs I didn't realize I was holding.

"It is alright, my son. We are here."

"Where is here?" My voice is smaller than I intend for it to sound.

"This is the center of your being. It is what connects to your mind and body."

"There's nothing here…" Looking up, I turn around in a circle trying to find any indication of what my core looks like.

"Ah, but there is," Master Splinter says leading me to a wooden coffee table with a small steel box on it. I walk pass Sensei toward the table. My hands tremble as I reach for the box, but curiosity pushes me forward. I hold the box in my hands. It has weight to it, but it's not too heavy. There's a single lock on it. It's smooth and cold to touch, yet there is a vibrating warmness that pulses every few seconds from inside of it. The vice grip in my chest has come back with vengeance and makes it hard to breathe. A soft light glows through the seams of the box as it continues to pulsate.

"What do you feel, Donatello?"

"I feel…" But I never finish my sentence. I gasp as a sensation hums through my body. My mind drifts back to Raph humiliating me in practice and I feel angry, upset, and pathetic. Thoughts of April fill my mind and overlap the first emotions. Suddenly, I feel elated, hopeful, and sick all at once. Both sets of emotions swirl together like a typhoon and sprout forth new intense feelings of hurt, rage, and….loneliness.

The box clatters loudly to the floor as it slips from my fingers.

"Donatello, it is alright. You must become aware of…." The sound of Master Splinter's voice fades as I try to process what's happening.

My skin feels prickly, a sense of vertigo traps me in its tendrils, and I don't know how to make it stop. I don't know whether I want to laugh, cry, or hit something and I have no logic reason for feeling this way. This isn't a math problem and it doesn't follow the laws of physics. I don't understand any of this and I don't know how to fix it. So, I do what I always do. I think about things that make sense.

a2 + b2 will always equal c2. The Pythagorean Theorem will always have the same outcome no matter what. But this? This is unpredictable and irregular.

The metal box shakes violently on the floor. Then, out of nowhere, chains float and wrap around the box. A padlock clamps down on the chains holding them firmly in place, effectively stopping the convulsions within the box.

I don't like this place. I want to leave. Now.

I feel like I'm breaking a watery surface as I open my eyes and gasp harshly. I snatch my hands from Sensei as if his hands were burning coals. His lips are moving but there's no sound. I blink several times and shake my head to clear the lingering fogginess.

"….My son, calm yourself." His voice is comforting to my ears, even through my embarrassment. I take deep breaths to slow my racing heart.

"I'm fine," I say quickly and a little harsher than I mean to. I swallow the saliva that has pooled in mouth, hoping to also swallow down the mixture of sentiments stuck in my chest like bad indigestion. I sit up a little straighter and force my face into an unreadable expression. I hope to save a sliver of my dignity after such a disastrous meditation session.

"Self-discovery was in your reach, but anxiety took it from you. You cannot expect to grow if you do not understand yourself, and you cannot understand yourself if you do not face the root of your problem."

"I don't have a problem, Sensei. I'm fine. Really," I try my best to reassure him so this conversation will end.

"Tell me, son, what do you do when one of your inventions does not work as you designed it to work?"

I tilt my head slightly at randomness of his question, but answer it anyway, "Well I make note of possible variables that could contribute to its malfunctioning so I can make the appropriate modifications."

He hums as he rubs his hand down his beard, "So in essence you collect this data in order to fix the problem, correct?"

"In a sense, yes."

"In this same manner, you must also collect data about yourself; truly know and understand who you are. Only then will you be able to take this data and improve yourself.

This self enlightenment mumbo jumbo is really starting to frustrate me as I try to keep it together. "I improve myself everyday, Sensei. I read engineering manuals, scientific journals, and medical books, to make our lives comfortable, to keep us safe, to...to better myself."

"Donatello, there is more to self awareness than the knowledge you possess for the good of this family. The things you do, are not who you are, and do not compare to the things your soul needs and thrives for. Self awareness is developed by focusing your attention on your inner self."

"Right. So, I'll just look up some journals about—"

"This is not a skill you learn from a book" He sternly interrupts me, "When your focus is in a book, you are not paying attention to your own behavior and emotions, which is the whole purpose of meditation."

I usually remain silent through Master Splinter's lectures about meditation, but after such a horrible morning of practice and this crazy self-awareness session, my patience is nearly shot. "I mean to be disrespectful, Sensei, but these abstract theories of spirituality have no real merit. I don't need to focus on an imaginary spirit world to fight purple dragons or hack into Kraang technology here in the real world. It...it just doesn't make sense to me...it never has."

There. I finally said it. But instead of feeling better, I just feel anxious all over again. I can see the disappointment glisten in my father's eyes as he rises to his feet.

"Why do you still doubt what you have seen with your own eyes?"

"It wasn't real!" My voice elevates slightly as my hands flop heavily against my crossed legs. "It was just a neurological response to external stimuli and-"

"Donatello!" He barks at me. His walking stick slams angrily against the floor. Though his tone is like stone, it is the harrowing look in his eyes that startles me. "Your spiritual presence is deeply suppressed and unless you allow its release, it will rupture your mind and body; it will be your undoing."

"That's a bit dramatic" I mutter sarcastically to myself. I immediately regret my commentary when Master Splinter's head snaps back to look at me. His steely eyes are unnerving and force me to look down at my lap.

"You find my warning dramatic?"

"I'm sorry, Master Splinter, I didn't mean—"

"Perhaps extra meditation sessions will help you see a different perspective."

I give a disapproving grunt, "For how long?"

"Until you see the error in your logic. You are dismissed." He turns away like I am nothing more than a delinquent pupil.

I barely manage an audible 'Hai, Sensei' as I swiftly walk from the dojo.

My peripheral vision is a blur as I briskly walk to my sanctuary. My lab.

* * *

><p>I meditated in the dojo for another hour after Donatello's retreat. Perhaps I pushed him too hard today, but it was the only way to show him, to make him understand. Though he is my most introverted child, Donatello, is also my most intellectual. He never takes anything at face value; always searching for the why's and how's of this world. What he cannot prove with his science and experiments, he dismisses as a fallacy.<p>

However, there are some things that are beyond our understanding and stretch into the realm of impossibilities. He holds so much knowledge about the world around him, yet lacks true understanding of the simplest matters within himself.

When he was as child, Donatello was the most easily frightened aside from Michelangelo. My youngest son's fears were those of an overactive imagination, the boogie man and other child-like notions. Donatello's fears were similar to his brother's, until he learned better. At an early age, the discovery of textbooks and reliable facts quickly extinguished his imagination for outlandish tales and replaced it with knowledge and logic.

Donatello's intellect often outweigh his fears. In his mind, without prove or evidence, it does not exist, and therefore hold no threat.

However, it is good to have a healthy suspicion of the inexplicable.

During practice, I was sure I felt another presence within my son's aura. It was foreign, yet familiar. I only meditated with him to make certain it was merely an old rat's mistaken sight and nothing more serious. However, it is as I feared—another presence was there.

Foreign, yet familiar, it remained eerily still in my son's core.

My quietest son still hides behind his knowledge. He thinks he is protecting his emotions by locking them away. He does not understand my concern. Just as Donatello panicked and pulled us both from his subconscious state, I saw it. A glimpse of its cerise manifestation. The presence seemed indifferent, but it was watching; waiting for something.

Still troubled by my thoughts, I walk over to the small shelf dedicated to Tang Shen. Maybe I worry too much about my boys. Maybe the presence I felt was nothing more than a stray emotion; extra meditation will help with this.

"Yes, Leonardo." I don't have to turn around to know my eldest son is standing behind me. Nowadays, there is a more confidence in his walk, as a true leader should have. At times, it still falters as it does today.

"I just wanted to apologize for this morning. I should have handled things better with Raphael and Michelangelo before practice."

I turn around to face him. Though he avoids eye contact, I catch a glimpse of embarrassment in those self-reproaching blue eyes.

"Have you and Raphael explained the meaning of condoms to Michelangelo?" He visibly winces at the word 'condom'.

"Hai, Sensei," he says as he straightens his stance a little more, "I made sure Michelangelo understood what…they are," he pauses as his expression becomes more serious, " He never listens. I told him to pay attention more. Sometimes, it's like he doesn't understand the importance of anything unless its a comic book or a video game." My son shakes his head in a manner that is much too old for his teenage years.

"Your brother understands a lot more than you think," I say with a small smile as I place my hand on his shell and guide him toward the center of the room, "Come. We will practice your Kenjutsu techniques."

**TBC**

**Poor Mike and Don! Next chapter's all about the 'B-team'. Thanks for reading! Please review! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: To everyone who reviewed, added me to their favorites, and/or sent me a PM, thank you so much for your kind and constructive feedback. I am humbling in awe by your reviews. I'm glad you guys are enjoying the story as much as I'm enjoying writing it! As promised, here's a 'B-Team' chapter. Enjoy! :)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

Nothing like a game of Galaxy Invaders to unwind the mind. I reach level 50 just as I feel a sharp thump on the side of my head. I yelp as I rub the tender spot while still zapping the alien creatures. I ignore the pestering jab and deepen my concentration as the alien warlord blinks unto the screen.

"Move," Raph demands. He flops down on the couch, nearly sitting on me in the process.

"Hey!" I whine, "I'm trying to beat the boss level!"

"Don't care," he says heartless of my dilemma as he looks for the remote. Our eyes spot the remote on the coffee table at the same time.

"No!" I roar, reaching for the remote with my right hand, while still working the game controller in my left, but Raph is faster. "Don't you dare!" I say threateningly, my attention fully on Raph's hand as his finger hovers over the channel button.

Accepting the challenge with a mocking raise of his brow, he promptly changes the channel. I bellow a heart-wrenching cry of defeat, "I was here first!"

"You've been hoggin' the tube for the past hour, so shut your trap."

"You could've at least let me save my game, Raph!" I complain in frustration.

"Whatever," He mutters, totally blowing me off. He leans against the armrest causally flipping through the channels. He props one leg in the couch and shoves me to the floor with the other.

I scrunch my face into an ugly sour expression, "Jerk."

"Twerp." He says dismissively as he settles on some sort of do-it-yourself autobody show.

I huff as I walk out of the den. I want…no I _need_ to tell somebody what a jerk Raph's being. I peek into the dojo and see Leo talking to Master Splinter. I'm about to walk in and voice my complaints, but Leo's words stop me in my tracks.

"He never listens….." I pause, my foot hanging over the threshold. With ninja finesse, I pull myself back and hide against the outside wall of the dojo. "….it's like he doesn't understand the importance of anything unless it's a comic book or a video game."

I can't make out everything Leo says to Sensei, but I hear enough to know complaining about my video game probably isn't the best idea right now. I turn on my heels and head for the only brother who hasn't treated me like crap this morning.

I stand in front of Donnie's lab door. Wasn't he in the dojo with Master Splinter before Leo? How did I miss him passing by the den? Sometimes I think Donnie has _Leo_ beat in the stealth department, and that says a lot. But, hey, that's just Donnie; he's always been the quiet one out of the four of us.

"Knock, knock!" I shout at the closed lab door with a grin.

"I'm busy, Mikey," I barely hear his quiet response.

"Knock, knock!"

"Mikey, the door isn't even locked! I don't have time—"

"_Knock. Knock_." I emphasize both words with pretend aggravation.

An inflated sigh comes from the other side of the door, "Who's there?"

"Mikey," A smile is obvious in my voice; I'm thrilled my brother is playing along.

"Mikey who." He doesn't even say it as a question, just a deadpan response, but I'll take what I can get.

"Mi-_Key_ doesn't work, that's why I'm knocking!" I beatbox the sound of a rimshot and I'm pretty sure I hear a huff of laughter on the other side. I take it as sign it's safe to come in as I crack the door open, slide inside, and gently shut the door behind me. "I've been waiting to use that one all week!"

As usual, Donnie is tinkering at his lab table with a whole bunch of wires, metal scraps, and thingamajigs scattered in front of him. He's wearing those magnifying eye glasses that make his brown eyes look super huge like an anime character. He finally looks up at me. I give him my most endearing smile.

He sighs before looking down at his work again. I almost think coming in his lab was a bad idea, until he finally speaks, "Delivery: I give it an eight. Comicality: a nine. The fact that you used your name as an actual pun: Full ten points."

"Yes!" I exclaim as I pump my fist with a little one leg hop. Donnie shakes his head at my antics, but shows no other expression as he continues to work. Across the room, there's a rolling chair beside the infirmary bed. I promptly sit in it backwards, and using my feet, push off the infirmary bed until my shell bumps the edge of the lab table Donnie's working on.

"Whatcha doin'?" I ask in sing song kind of way as I spin around twice before facing my brainy brother.

"There's a shortage in one of the security cameras. Found another one," he explains dejectedly as he holds up the camera for me to see, "just tweaking it."

"Cool," I give a head-bobbing nod, but then pause thoughtfully. That was way too short of an answer. He didn't tell me what kind of camera it was, how he was going to tweak it, or any of the other stuff he usually goes on and on about. His knuckles turn slightly off-white as he grips the camera a little harder than he needs to. He snatches up a screwdriver with his free hand and proceeds to unscrew the back of the camera. Arching a curious brow, I watch him try three times to unscrew the camera casing, before tossing the screwdriver roughly on the tabletop. He scratches at his leg before picking up another screwdriver.

Donnie _never_ tosses his precious tools, and since when does he not know the difference between a flat-tip and a cross-tip screwdriver? He's the one who explained the difference to me!

Something's definitely bugging him. I wonder if he got in trouble with Sensei? Donnie getting in trouble is pretty much unheard of, unless he's blown up something. I think back for a moment….nope, don't recall anything going 'ka-boom' lately, so something else is up. I quickly forget about the crappy morning I'm having and decide it's up to me to crack this case. It'll take some sneaky ninja-know-how to get Don to tell me what's wrong. It's a real delicate process. He's kinda like Raph, but instead of exploding into rage, Donnie sort of caves-in on himself and totally ignores everything and blocks everybody out. One wrong move and he'll clam up. Game over.

"What did Splinter want?" I ask as innocently and causally as possible to test the waters.

"Nothing important," He gives a clipped response as his lips tighten into a thin line. Alright, so whatever happened between him and Master Splinter must have been pretty deep. He obviously doesn't want to talk about it, right now. No need pushing that button any more.

He clears his throat asking how I'm feeling. He's changing the subject—already trying to block me out.

"I was fine after I ate something," I answer him coolly. I don't want him going all Dr. Don on me. His eyes scan me like a turtle-humanoid-computer. He seems satisfied with my response and overall appearance and goes back to his tinkering. Alright time for a different approach. If he doesn't want to tell me what's bothering him, then I can at least try to make him feel better with a few jokes.

"Hey, Donnie," I start and then continue when he absently hums a response, "Why don't cannibals eat clowns?" I wait a moment for him to answer and when he doesn't, I eagerly blurt out, "Because they taste funny!"

No response, but that's okay; I've got plenty more where that came from.

"Why can't you trust an atom? Because they make up everything!" I chuckle at the last one, but the laughter dies on my lips when I look up at Donnie.

He doesn't even crack a smile! He loves these silly puns just as much as I do, especially the science ones. We share a love for corny jokes. It's one of the few things we still have in common. I remember when we were kids and Leo and Raph fought all the time (some things never change). I use to get really upset about it and Donnie would tell me jokes to distract me. Nowadays, Donnie and I are so different, it's crazy, but the jokes are just something we never outgrew. When either of us is frustrated or upset, we tell each other jokes. It's just our thing.

So now I'm disappointed that he's not laughing at my awesome jokes. I can practically see him sinking deeper into his work. At this rate, it'll be days before he surfaces again.

I sober into a more thoughtful expression. "Okay, D, serious question. I know H20 is water, but what is H204?" My question seems to capture his attention. He never passes up a chance to flash around that big brain of his.

He straightens his posture in a very scholarly way as he speaks, "Well, technically, H2O4 is a compound containing 2 hydrogen and 4 oxygen atoms. However, it's pretty much an unknown-"

"Nope!" I exclaim abruptly cutting off his bookworm explanation. I can barely hold back the smile inching across my face, "It's **_for_** drinking, **_for_** swimming, **_for_** washing….get it? H20 _for_?" My eyes dart back and forth waiting for his reaction.

Donnie stares and blinks at me for half a minute before a nerdy puff of laughter escapes his lips. It starts out as a tiny snort but then the snorts become louder and more repetitive as he laughs. I join in with my own dorky treble of a giggle. It's good to see him smiling. He hasn't snort-laughed in weeks. He's been pretty busy trying to recreate that retromutagen.

"That was pretty good," He admits to me as his laughter subsides. "Do you mind grabbing the cutting pliers from my toolbox?" Sweet! When Don starts asking me to grab tools, it's pretty much a given that he's not going to block me out and I can stick around for awhile. I feel his mood shifting; I'm still not sure what happened with Splinter, but at least he's coming out of his funk.

"Sure thing," I reply still sporting a smile. I bound over to the shelf where he keeps his toolbox. Peering inside his box of treasured tools, everything is in order by tool, type, and size. It's ridiculous how organized my bro is. He labels _everything_. I look beside his toolbox and see a handheld label-maker, which is conveniently labeled 'Label-Maker'. I'm not sure if it's meant to be a joke or just another one of my brother's many quirks. I wonder if he labels his labels?

My short attention span wraps me in its coils again, because I hear the slight impatience in Donnie's sigh as he speaks, "Did you find it? All the tools are in alphabetical order and subcategorized by type, so it should be pretty easy to find," he continues to prattle over his shoulder, "They're the pliers with the zig-zag edges, they look like little teeth and—"

I feel a frustrating warmth rush to my face as my brother's patronizing tone makes me blurt out, "I know what cutting pliers look like, Donnie; I'm not stupid!" The words leave my mouth like pressured steam from a tea kettle. I hear something clatter from the table as Donnie slowly turns around in his squeaky swivel chair to face me. He idly scratches his ankle.

I didn't mean to yell, but Donnie's tone reminds me of Leo and Raph and their words still hurt. They both think I'm dumb and don't pay attention. And now Donnie thinks the same. Well, I do listen and I'm not dumb!

I snatch the pliers from the toolbox and shove it toward Donnie, "Here!"

He pushes his funny looking eyeglasses to the top of his head and stares at me with questioning eyes, "I never said you were stupid." He says slowly as he carefully takes the pliers from my hand and places it on the table. His eyes never leave mine. "Do _you_ think you're stupid?" My shoulders slump as my momentary anger dissipates into thin air. I look at Donnie. He's not Leo or Rap; he isn't being sarcastic. His tone is easy and kind; he's trying to figure out why I just blew up at him.

"Yes…no….I mean…" I make a wordless sound of frustration before plopping down into the other swivel chair, "I don't know." I sit on my thumbs wrapping my other fingers around the bottom of the seat. I twist side to side in the chair and look away, embarrassed by my mini outburst. I came in here to forget about feeling like an idiot, but I guess Leo and Raph's words are more difficult to forget than I thought.

"Does this have anything to do with your condom conversation with Leo and Raph?" He asks cautiously, scratching the bottom of his foot before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his plastron.

I take a deep breath before going into a explanation, "Leo thinks all I do is goof off, don't try hard enough in practice, but I do try and I work really hard to be as good a ninja as him, but he says it's my fault we had to do blackflips….Raph says I'm stupid cause I didn't know what condoms or white lightening were, but it's not like Sensei went into detail about that stuff, ya know?...And Raph totally messed up my game and kicked me out of the den, I was on level 50. Level 50! Totally not cool….Then I heard Leo tell Master Splinter that I didn't know anything, and now Sensei's going to be disappointed in me," My heart races as the pitiful narration comes pouring out in less than two minutes.

"The pliers," I continue quieter than before as I catch my breath, "I thought, you thought I was stupid, too."

Donnie frowns and sits there for minute trying to understand the words I just vomited into his listening ears. "Okay," he says with care. For a minute, I think he's going to agree with everyone else about my level of stupidity, but then he continues, "First of all, in case it wasn't clear when I said it earlier, I do _not_ think you're stupid." He gives me a dead serious look before getting up and walking to his toolbox. He comes back with another set of pliers. My face crumbles. I can't even find a dumb pair of pliers.

Donnie does a double take from the pliers to my crestfallen expression, "No, no, no," he waves his hand in front of me as if to wipe away my current feeling of uselessness, "Completely my fault. I didn't tell you what size I needed. Right tool, wrong size, see?" He gives a reassuring smile holding both tools in front of me, displaying their obvious size different. I nod my understanding, sniffling slightly, despite my best efforts not to.

"No one thinks you're stupid, Mikey. You know that." Donnie chastises me gently as he sits down again. He turns around to face the lab table again, but this time waves me over, "Come here. Hold these two wires like this. Perfect, thanks." I hold the wires as still as possible. You would think a guy as smart as Donnie would be super arrogant and talk down to people every chance he got, but he's not like that at all. Donnie has a way of making even the dumbest turtle feel like the smartest person in the world. That's how I feel right now, like holding these wires is the most important job ever, cause Donnie asked me to do it.

He starts tinkering again as he continues, "You know how Leo is when he goes into 'Leader mode.' He knows fully well you are just as awesome a ninja as the rest of us. He just worries and wants to make sure you're prepared. You just need to focus a little more that's all." When Donnie says focus, it sounds like the easiest thing in the world to do.

"I do focus!" I say huffily. He arches a brow as he stops tinkering to move my hand back where he originally told me to keep it, "Sorry," I mutter sheepishly. "Well, he doesn't have to be so conceited and bossy about it. And Raph?...God, he totally ticks me off! Okay, I know I tease him and stuff, but just to make him laugh, never to make him feel…" My words trail off but several words come to mind.

S_tupid. Dumb. Idiotic._

"Raph is…" Donnie chimes in as he cuts a stray wire, "Well, Raph's just living up to his obnoxious, tyrannizing, crass, and barbaric nature." His voice changes to one of disdain as he describes our red-clad brother. Apparently he's just as ticked off as I am.

"If that's you're way of calling him a jerk, then I totally agree, dude."

"I got it now," Donnie says allowing me to release the wires, "Here, twist these wires together really tight and then slide them through this PVC tube," I nodded an 'Ok' and put my fingers to work, "Don't feel so bad about the whole condom thing. Just between you and me, the first time Raph saw a condom he thought it was chewing gum; and Leo thought sanitary pads were neckwarmers."

I chuckle in disbelief.

"Our big brothers don't know as much as they'd like you to think," Donnie says with a smirk. He pauses for a moment before looking at me, "You know what sanitary pads are, right?" I can hear the dread in his voice as he waits for my response.

I wave off his worries with a 'pssh' sound, "Dude, I found out about those the hard way." He gives me a curious look, so I elaborate, "April told me….after she whacked me in the face with a box of them."

"WHAT?!" I wince at Donnie's shrilled reply, "What did you do, Mikey?!" He's yelling now in that panicked tone he saves for needless freak outs.

I put my hands up as if to calm down a frightened puppy, "Chill out, dude. It was an accident."

"Telling me it was an 'accident' is not helping me 'chill out'…" Donnie eyes me with obvious doubt.

"Seriously, after the initial screaming, she was actually pretty cool about telling what they were. FYI, 28 days from now, I would totally stay out of her throwing range if I were you."

Donnie's eyelids lower suspiciously at me, he opens and closes his mouth twice, but sighs and finally give up on whatever he was going to say, "Never mind. I really don't want to know."

I shrug indifferently, but then another thought comes to mind, "There's one thing I still don't get," I start off as I try to push the twisted wiring through the tiny PVC tube.

"What's that?" Donnie says picking at the splayed guts of the camera while scratching his leg under the table.

"How do you use power tools with condoms? It sounds pretty painful." Donnie looks at me puzzled by my question, but seconds later his eyes widen as his mouth forms an 'O'. "Leo and Raph busted my chops so bad about condoms, I didn't ask about the power tools." I sigh as I finally give up on pushing the wires through the plastic tubing.

"Actually, power tools have absolutely nothing to do with condoms. It's just a figure of speech."

I think back to practice this morning…what did Master Splinter call it?..."You mean it's a double entrée?" I answer with uncertainty.

Donnie winces a bit at my wording, "Close. It's called a double entendre, or more specifically a sexual innuendo." Yeah….that doesn't make things any easier to understand. I stare at him prompting him to continue, "Sexual innuendos use everyday things to make sexual references."

Still staring. Sorry, bro, no dice. Try again.

He taps his chin and hums thoughtfully as he looks around his desk for something. He eyes the wiring and PVC tube in my hand, and promptly takes them. Holding the PVC tube and wiring in front of me, he says, "Prime example. In _your_ own words, female junk," he wiggles the PVC tube in his right hand, "male junk," and then waves the wiring side to side in his left hand. He swiftly slides the wiring back and forth inside the PVC tube. "Voila, sexual innuendo."

He looks proud of his demonstration, but the only thing he really proves is that he's better at putting wires through tubes than I am. I still don't get what that has to do with—

"Oooh!" I say in sudden awe as I make the connections. Aside from Sensei, Donnie's the only one who tries to explain things in a way I'll understand it. "So you use other stuff to talk about sex?"

"Pretty much," Donnie agrees as he hands me another wire and tube.

"So putting the 'car' in the 'garage' is a sexual innuendo?"

"Yes. It can be." He answers casually as he installs the new wire in the camera.

"What about putting the ball in the hoop or the chip in the dip?"

Donnie rubs his hand down his face and groans with a smile he's incapable of hiding, "Great. I've created an innuendo monster."

I laugh out loud at his dry wit, and snap my fingers as I think of another one, "Hey, you can put the vomit in the barf bag!" We both give pause as Donnie stares awkwardly at the absurdity that just came out of mouth, "Uh…too much?" I cringe as I hand him a newly wrapped wire.

"Too much." He agrees, adjusting something inside the camera as he rubs his foot against the floor.

"So when Raph said I played with your tools…." My mood darkens with embarrassment as I realize what my crude older brother really meant.

"Yeah." Donnie says, his bitter tone confirming my realization to be true.

I grow quiet as I think about what a dummy I must have looked like last night. All the inside jokes suddenly make a lot more sense, and Don got the bulk of the insults. I look up at Donnie sympathetically; he's really touchy when we tease too much about him and our friend April.

He catches me staring at him, but he dismisses my concern with a waning smile, "Its fine, Mikey. I told you it wasn't your fault."

"I am so pranking Raph big time for this." I say in a tone that demands justice for little brothers everywhere.

"What are you going to do this time?"

"I'm thinking hot sauce in his Gatorade." I smirk at the thought.

"Hot sauce pranks are so cliché." He criticizes while screwing on the camera casing again.

"Well, what do _you_ think I should do, Mr. Smarty Pants?" I challenge. I watch him press a few buttons on the camera before turning to his keyboard to press a series of keys.

"Well," he starts as he turns back around to face me, but he's holding the camera up concealing his face. I look at the computer screen behind him to see his gap-toothed smile staring back at me, "I think we could kill two birds with one stone on this prank: Get revenge on our dear older brother _and_ prove how brilliant you are."

"Did you just say 'we' as in you and me?" Donnie never joins me in prank wars, though he does sometimes offer his room as neutral hiding ground. "Wait did you call me brilliant?"

"Yes, and yes," Computer-screen-Donnie smirks at me, "Unfortunately, I suffered through Raph's recent victimization as well and would like to partake in constructing the proper ramifications for his actions. I have a plan. Between my knowledge of simple machines and your creative skills in causative spatial awareness, I think we can pull it off. What do you say?"

"Dude, I barely understood a word you just said, but if it means we get to bust Raph, then I only have one word to say," I grab the camera from Donnie and turn its lens toward my lips, "Booyakasha!"

"Excellent!" Donnie says with a chuckle as he turns back to his computer and starts typing. My mouth disappears from the computer screen as he pulls up a bunch of videos from the internet. "Check these out," and with the tap of a key the videos play.

I place the camera on the table as I stare in confusion, but within seconds a smile practically splits my face in two. Every tantalizing detail is just amazing and makes me so giddy I can barely stop bouncing in my seat. Six videos and several brainstorms later, I look at Donnie, my eyes glistening with anticipation. This is going to be crazy fun! I can't wait!

"When do we start?" I say between giggles.

He smiles brightly at my enthusiasm, "Well, I have a few supplies here, but I'm pretty sure we'll need to make at least one trip to the junkyard for the other items. We'll definitely need to draw this out and-"

"Hold up!" I put my hand up in mock seriousness, "Before we do anything this operation needs a name." I glance over to Donnie, who is genuinely smiling. He's totally forgotten about whatever upset him earlier. I didn't exactly cheer him up in the way I expected, but hey whatever works, right?

I should probably be a good little brother and point out the fact that he has other things to do which are way more important than pranking Raph, but I don't. Everybody needs to have a little fun sometime, even my workaholic brother. "Bro, you should totally name this operation." I urge with an eager nod. He looks a bit surprised—he knows how defensive I am when it comes to naming things.

He quickly recovers with a quiet laugh, "Okay, well, what about Operation: Pink Love Glove?...PLG for short."

I'm grinning like a fool now. "I see what you did there," I wag my pointing finger at my bro with a knowing quirk of my brow, "And I love it!"

Donnie snort-laughs again before rubbing my head affectionately, "Come on, goofball, help me set up the new camera in the west tunnels."

With an 'okay', I start gathering up a few tools into his messenger bag.

I follow behind him as we head for the door, but frown as I notice a trail of olive green flakes on the floor that stop at Donnie's feet. I look at his feet and legs. He's been scratching the whole time I've been here, and it looks gross now.

"Dude, your skin's falling off." I stick out my tongue in disgust as I point to his legs. He looks down to where I'm pointing, but seems more annoyed than disgusted.

"It's just dead skin." He mumbles as he brings his leg up to scratch it again. More flakes drift to the floor.

Before I can bombard him with gross hygiene questions, his T-phone makes that catchy jingle sound. When he checks it, his lips quirk into a lopsided smile and a small blush paints his face. I already know who it is.

"Was that _April_?" I stretch her name as I practically sing it out loud.

His blush deepens, "Stop that." He swats his hand at me which I easily dodge. He sends a quick text and puts his phone back in his belt pocket.

"Well?..."

"She, uh, just wants me to come by later and help her study."

I raise my eye ridges and squish my face to make duck lips.

"Stop that!" He complains, even though I can see the cheerfulness dancing across his face as he pushes pass me to leave the lab.

Laughter tickles my throat as I trail after my brother, "Hey, wait up, D!"

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><p><strong>TBC...Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed this little Donnie and Mikey moment :) Donnie and April coming up in the next chapter. I know it may seem slow-paced right now, but I assure you its for a reason. Just hang tight and enjoy the ride! If you have a moment, please review! Thanks!<strong>


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